


The Devil You Know

by Ahmose007, sushifish



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Consequences, Control Issues, Dark, Disobeying Orders, Effects of War, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Bashing (Star Wars), Manipulation, Mental Health Issues, Military Kink, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Umbara Arc (Star Wars), References to the Jedi Council (Star Wars), Rexsoka Week (Star Wars), Rough Sex, Survivor Guilt, The Force, Vaginal Sex, Wet Dream, actual piece of shit pong krell, honestly just so much angst we're so sorry, rexsoka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmose007/pseuds/Ahmose007, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushifish/pseuds/sushifish
Summary: Captain Rex left Umbara bitter, broken and haunted. He'd failed his men, had let his brothers die at the hands of a mad man and there's not a thing in the galaxy he can do now to make it better. With Dogma's trial looming ever closer, Rex knows he needs to stay strong for his men. But between the increasingly dark, realistic nightmares he can't seem to escape and the growing resentment he feels for anyone wielding a lightsaber - or two, in her case - he's beginning to wonder if the man who left Umbara is even Captain Rex at all.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 108
Kudos: 111





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, we made it all of... like 12 hours before we started on another story? Sorry, not sorry!
> 
> Ahmose007 had the amazing idea to tackle a darker side of Rex post-Umbara, so if y'all thought we served up some angst in Nothing but the Truth, boy do we have news for you. This brilliant prologue is courtesy of her mind and hers alone and I (sushifish) think she did an excellent job of setting the tone for this story.
> 
> We hope you all enjoy!

_**Rex’s POV** _

_“Fall back! It’s no good, fall back!”_

**_Boom!_ **

_“They’re right on top of us! We need to regroup! Take cover!”_

**_Bdew! Bdew! Bdew!_ **

“Oz…Ringo…”

**_Boom! Cachoom! Boom!_ **

“Hardcase...I - I’m so sorry…I should’ve...”

**_Bdew! Bdew! Bdew! Bdew! BOOM!_ **

_“Watch your left! Incoming!”_

“Waxer...I’ll avenge you...don’t worry...I - I’m sorry...I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner...that I couldn’t save you...that I couldn’t save you all…”

Sweat beaded his fevered skin as Rex mumbled and shivered uneasily in his sleep. The dark and sinister cloud of Umbara was a thick veil over his senses as he tossed and turned restlessly. He was back there now, back on that shadow world watching his brothers get shot, blown up and ripped in two. 

Kix admonished severely, “We _can’t_ just leave them, Sir!”

Rex answered decisively, “You _don’t_ have a _choice_ ! That’s an _order!_ ”

Kix’s words cut deep, “You sound like General Krell.”

_No! I’m not like him! I only wanted to keep the rest of my men safe!_

He watched in horror as General Krell now floated in front of his closed and twitching eyes. He effortlessly cleaved one of his brothers in half with one of his lightsabers, chuckling as he did so; it was nothing to him. The clones were _less than nothing_ to him. He locked eyes with Rex and walked slowly, inexorably towards him, lightsabers out and humming dangerously. 

Rex held his ground. One of his brothers jumped in front of Krell to impede his advance and Krell held up one of his hands, stopping the trooper mid-step before lifting him up and strangling him slowly, spinning him around and throwing off his helmet so they could all watch him die. It was Dogma. 

Rex looked on helplessly, unable to do anything more than growl and clench his fists at his sides. He wasn’t sure if Krell was holding him back with the Force or if he was paralysed with indecision, merely making another one of many flawed judgements he’d made during this campaign. Dogma’s neck finally snapped and Krell dropped him unceremoniously, the noise of plastoid and bone landing on the ground in a gnarled heap crunching sickeningly in his ears. Krell continued his advance, never breaking eye contact.

“You are smart enough and _loyal_ enough to obey my orders, aren’t you CT-7567?”

 _Yes..._ **No** _, I should have seen through it all...I should have listened to Fives, to Jesse, to_ all _of them…_

“CT-7567, are you reading me? You will take this base and you will take it now. You will not retreat, you will not fall back! Do you understand me?!”

 _Yes, Sir..._ **NO** _...No, I was wrong...it was all wrong…_

Fives prodded insistently, “This is about more than just following orders.”

Rex answered, not a doubt he was in the right this time, “It is. It is about honor.”

Fives persisted, “ _Where_ is the honor in marching blindly to our deaths?!”

Rex ended it the only way he knew how, “It is not our call.”

_Fives, please forgive me...Hardcase, Dogma…_

General Krell was standing directly in front of him now, inches away with his lightsabers hovering over the crook of Rex’s neck, one on each side, looking like he might either knight him or chop his head off depending on his mood.

Rex was breathing heavily, a drop of sweat blazing a slow and meandering trail down his furrowed brow. He kicked his lightweight and scratchy GAR issue blanket to the ground as he flailed helplessly on his cot, unable to break himself free of his nightmare.

General Krell lowered his face to where his turmeric colored eyes were now even with Rex’s gold flecked ones. He could see Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase reflected in those hateful spheres.

Rex tried halfheartedly to stop them, “It’s a suicide mission, not to mention against orders.”

Fives had put him in his place, “It’s the _right_ thing to do.”

General Krell laughed in his face, obnoxiously and full of contempt. “Always following orders, CT-7567.” His laugh made the hairs on the back of Rex’s neck bristle but he refused to back down. “I couldn’t have done it _without you…_ ”

Fives and Jesse were approaching him. “Where’s Hardcase?”

They hung their heads. “He didn’t make it.”

General Krell didn’t need to touch him with the lightsaber; Fives and Jesse had already killed him with their simple statement. _He didn’t make it_ … And it was all because of Rex…

He watched as General Krell pushed him out of the way and grabbed Jesse and Fives, using the Force to slam them up against the wall of the fortifications around the base. Guns suddenly appeared and floated to all of the troopers around him. He watched in panic as they all took a steady and unwavering aim at his two brave brothers.

_Bdew! Bdew! Bdew! Bdew! Bdew! Bdew!_

He rushed forward, placing his torso in front of Fives while stretching out his arms to try and protect Jesse. He tried in vain to shield the two men from the blaster fire, but the shots just passed right through him and into Fives and Jesse, killing them on the spot. 

_Noooo! That’s not how it happened!_

Now the scene shifted to the tower as Krell’s voice echoed all around him. “Captain, make sure the troops are aware that the enemy may disguise themselves as clones…”

The ground lurched and the air compressed then expanded around him rapidly as he was transported unwillingly to the battlefield, blaster shots whizzing past him and rocket launchers exploding. Men screaming all around. Clones. Men like him. His brothers. He suspected that the shots would pass harmlessly through him somehow and he didn’t care either way. He made his way assuredly to Waxer, knowing he was meant to relive this terrible moment again. He reverently lifted Waxer’s helmet to see his face. As soon as he’d seen it he almost wished he hadn’t. Waxer was dying and Rex felt a piece of himself die with him. “Tell me who gave you the orders to attack us.”

Waxer had answered with his last breath. “It...it was General Krell. We thought they were wearing our armor, but it was...you…”

A tear slipped down Rex’s face, matching that of Waxer’s. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was still dreaming or if he was really crying. It was so real.

General Krell’s laugh this time made Rex’s blood run cold, turning to pure ice in his veins. There was a chill in the air around them now as well as the scene that morphed into the brig. Rex was standing there in front of Krell but unlike the reality he remembered, he was alone this time. The room was completely empty save for himself and Krell. Rex’s hand jerked towards his blaster but he didn’t pull it. Not yet.

Krell was speaking again, his voice calm, even and _soulless_. “You never learn, Captain.”

Rex was screaming now, voice raising uncontrollably at the unfairness of it all. The pointless banthashit that was this mission, the treatment of himself and his fellow clones, of his life in general. Raging at the fact that he could be thrust into a warzone with a couple of blasters, the feeble armor of plastoid and a muttered ‘good luck’, but he _couldn’t_ have a life outside of the GAR. Wasn't even really considered a person. No more than property really. His words echoed his pain and overwhelming frustration at all of it as they exploded from his mouth, “How could you do this?! You had my _trust_ , my _loyalty_! I followed all of your orders, and you made me kill my brothers!”

He was aware, somewhere deep, deep down at the core of his being, that those were Dogma’s words. But they felt like his own. It felt like his own inadequacy. It _was_ his own failure. The words sprang from his lips with such force that he had to take a half step back at the power of them.

General Krell stood and Rex growled, “Turn around and step toward the wall.”

“No.” General Krell was fading away, shedding his scaly and venomous skin but still holding his gaze. Two of his arms disappeared, he shrunk in size and stature, his body changing color from its dull green to a rich sienna. His eyes transformed from beady and mustard yellow to large and vivid blue. Before he knew it, it was looking at Ahsoka.

It was a trick of Krell’s. He was sure of it. It wouldn’t stop him. His hands were shaking. _‘On your knees.”_

She began to walk towards him, her steps confident but light as she padded noiselessly across the floor. _Ahsoka’s steps, not Krell’s_. She was wearing her maroon battledress, no trace of Krell now as the form-fitting dress left little to the imagination. It hugged her small curves perfectly. He noticed she wasn’t wearing her tights. As he watched her move, his breathing sped up and he was having trouble swallowing, his throat thick and tight. Desire, he realized as the sensation raced down his spine to settle in his waking erection.

She had reached him now and her chest was pressing against his own, her smooth jaw ghosting across his own scratchy one as she licked the shell of his ear with her lips. “Say it again,” she breathed. His whole body shuddered.

He growled, _“On your knees_.”

She sucked his earlobe into her mouth before nuzzling along his jaw and nipping his neck. His cock twitched at the pressure of her teeth there and his heart began to beat a frantic tattoo against his ribs. Her hand snaked sensually around his front to run lightly along his codpiece. He shouldn’t have been able to feel that, but it was as if her fingers were actually touching him and he throbbed in need behind the confines of his armor. “Say it _again,_ CT-7567.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over his head. He seized her wrists hard and snarled, “ _What_ did you call me?”

She had the decency to look shocked, “CT-7567. That is your number, isn’t it?”

His grip tightened on her wrists, not a thought as to whether he was hurting her or not, “I am _not_ a number. I am a _man_. I have a name and it's _Rex!”_

“Okay, Rex. _Captain Rex_.”

“ _Yes_. Captain Rex. That’s right.” He popped the magnetic latches that held his codpiece in place and he let it fall to the floor carelessly, making a loud clanking sound as it landed. He tugged her hand back to its place on his length and she went straight to work while he moaned in approval.

Her lips were back, but this time nearly touching his own, the whisper of a touch. She breathed her next words directly into his hungry mouth, “ _Please_. Say it again, _Captain Rex_ …”

A wrecked groan tore itself from his throat as he commanded, “On. Your. _Knees_.”

“Yes, _Captain_.” She dropped immediately to her knees and took him in her mouth. It was heaven and hell all at once. Her warm, wet mouth was everything and more that he’d ever dreamed of, but he knew deep down inside again that this wasn’t right. He shoved the thought back to the deepest recesses of his mind where it _belonged_ right now and he lost himself in the pleasure she was giving him. His hands on her montrals, he guided her faster. 

She took him all the way to the base, the curly dark blonde hairs on his crotch tickling her nose before she pulled back slightly. Her lips gently kissing the leaking head, she purred, “You’re in a position of power now. How does it feel, _Captain_?” She sucked the head into her mouth and ran her tongue teasingly around it a few times. She licked along the slit and he groaned obscenely. “It feels _good_ doesn’t it?”

He nodded. Her mouth and tongue did feel good, but it was the power that he had right now that was really making his cock throb. He was in control now and it felt _really_ good.

She took him in all the way again, her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked him deep and hard. As she released him with a wet pop she said, “But I can sense your fear. You’re shaking.”

He was. He wasn’t sure anymore if it was from fear, or from the rightness and wrongness of this, or just that he was so close now. _So fucking close_.

“What are you waiting for?” She tempted, her tongue flicking deliciously over the twitching head.

He tugged a little on her montrals, urging her to move faster, to take him over the edge. “I have to do this…”

She sucked harder and faster, now going all the way down, now just pleasuring the weeping head until he almost couldn’t see straight. “You can’t do it, can you, _Captain Rex?_

He was seeing stars, his hips losing their rhythm as he neared the cliff, longing to fall off into the abyss.

She pulled her head away just long enough to whisper against the flushed and engorged head of his aching cock, “Eventually, you’ll have to do the right thing…”

He tightened his grip on her montrals and hauled her forward as his hips stuttered just a couple of thrusts more, and he groaned his release down her throat.

 _I...I had to_.

The dark beast inside him roared.

He shot up on his cot, sitting bolt upright and looking wildly around, his amber irises blown wide in a blind panic as his gaze darted frantically around the room. He was in the medical wing of the _Resolute_ en route to Coruscant, many of his brothers from the 501st in the cots around him and all of them mercifully asleep. His blanket was on the floor and he was in his blacks, a sizable wet patch now plastered proudly on the front of them. He hastily picked up his blanket and covered himself. 

It was just another nightmare. 

It was just another nightmare but more vivid this time, and much more fucked up. _Maker_ , he was just thankful all of his brothers were asleep and no one heard all the banthashit that had been running through his head moments ago. He couldn’t let his men see him like this, battered and broken inside with only a tentative grip on reality when he closed his eyes. Drowning in grief and self doubt and now disgust at himself as well.

So much had happened on Umbara and none of it good. He’d put on his best stoic mask after the carnage of General Krell, pretending that everything was fine, patting his troops on the back and telling them what a fine job they’d done and how everything would go back to normal now. 

Only it hadn’t. Not for him anyway. Feelings of failure, self-doubt and slipping control were inexorably overtaking him. And it scared him to death.

He laid his head back on the pillow, still shaking with his eyes glued open, unwilling to give in to the temptation of sleep again but wanting to maintain what small semblance of normalcy he could in this situation. Whatever was happening to him, he meant to find a way to control and contain it. 

It was going to be another long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so very much for reading! We hope you liked the prologue to The Devil You Know and we can't wait to hear what you think <3


	2. The Aftermath of Krell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gorgeous art at the beginning of this chapter is courtesy of Ahmose007 and her wonderful skills! And always will be, because I (sushifish) couldn't draw anything even halfway decent to save my own life :)

* * *

_**Ahsoka's POV** _

Ahsoka stood frozen in place, every cell and stardust speck in her body seemingly having turned to lead. Her tongue was useless where it lay inside her mouth, unwilling to move even a fraction. She was dumbfounded, completely and utterly shocked at what she was hearing. The voices of the Council seemed far away even though she could see with her own two eyes that their bodies or holos were clearly surrounding the chamber.

_“A traitor to the Jedi Order…”_

Her head swam with the information. She felt like the room was spinning around her, like the floor was going to crumble and collapse beneath her feet and send them all plummeting somewhere into the planet’s core.

_“A bug in the system…”_

Her blood simmered with rage and threatened to boil over her skin entirely. _Pong Krell_ . The name alone sent her heart into a frenzy of gnashing teeth and razor sharp claws. The man had been their General - he’d been their _Jedi_ \- and he'd betrayed them in the most vicious of ways. He’d tossed them around like they were nothing more than children’s playthings, had sent them off into needless danger - into _certain death_ \- because he thought them to be as expendable as toy soldiers. Her men were nothing to him, just an empty string of letters and numbers for him to rearrange and do with as he pleased.

_“An effort to gain Count Dooku’s favor…”_

Ahsoka could feel her hands balling into tight fists at her sides. Her nails dug a series of tiny crescent-shaped slivers into her palms but she hadn’t the mind to care. Everything in her vision was red, nothing more than flashing images of her men dying while that monster masquerading as a Jedi Master sat and watched. But it was worse than that, she knew. They hadn’t just died. No, they’d been _forced_ \- forced to take up arms and unknowingly kill their own brothers. It churned Ahsoka’s stomach violently and brought harsh, stinging tears to her eyes.

“And what of Krell?”

Her Master’s voice pulled Ahsoka back to the Council chambers. She didn’t need to reach for him in the Force to know that Anakin was seething just as much as she was. She could hear the hard edge to his voice, could see his rigid posture and his white-knuckled fists that mirrored her own.

There was a heavy pause among the Council members. Somehow, that infuriated Ahsoka even further.

“Dead, former Master Krell is,” Yoda spoke at last. “Killed by the clone trooper known as Dogma, he was.”

Ahsoka knew her relief wasn’t Jedi-like. She knew the Council would have frowned at her urge to spit on the ground in Krell’s memory, a testament to everything that sorry excuse for a sentient being deserved. And so she kept those feelings under lock and key in her mind, safe behind the durasteel walls inside her head.

“And Dogma?” Anakin pressed them. “Where is he now?”

Ahsoka watched as Yoda’s ears spread wide, the ends tipping downward in what she’d come to recognize as a sign of either unease or deep contemplation.

“Arrested, your clone trooper was. Awaiting trial here at the Temple, he is.”

“Trial!?” The word exploded from Ahsoka’s mouth before she could stop it. Every eye in the chamber was fixed on her, though there was nothing in the galaxy that could have willed her to care. “But he- he was acting in self-defense!”

“That may be true, Padawan Tano,” Master Windu replied evenly. “But the Order still needs to conduct a thorough investigation. And the Chancellor…” He broke off for a moment. “Well, the clones are technically property of the Republic. How the Chancellor will want to handle this matter remains to be seen.”

Ahsoka felt as though the Jedi Master had drawn his hand back and struck her clear across the mouth. Property? She didn’t care if it was technically true or not, the thought of anyone calling her friends _property_ was nearly enough to make her forget her place entirely.

As if he could sense her paper-thin resolve - and, Ahsoka supposed, he probably could - Anakin reached for her in the Force, sending gentle waves of comfort and reassurance through their bond. And underneath it all, he let her know that she wasn’t alone in her fury.

It was enough to keep her from any further outbursts, at least. She quietly seethed through the remainder of their debriefing, only diverting her eyes occasionally to chance a look at Barriss. Her friend was, as always, a perfect picture of Jedi tranquility. Even her Force signature was nothing more than a steady, even thrum. But Ahsoka knew firsthand just how much could lie beneath such a calm exterior and she wondered if Barriss was wracked with similar emotions as her - anger, sorrow… guilt.

_Guilt._

That was it, above all else. She and Barriss had led the 327th Star Corps’ air assault on Umbara, which meant that she had been there but she hadn’t _really_ been there, not in any way that mattered. Her men were being subjected to Pong Krell’s cruelty quite literally right underneath her nose and she hadn’t even had the slightest clue.

What kind of Jedi did that make her if she couldn’t even sense her own men being virtually tortured?

It was all she could think about as the session came to a close and the Council dismissed them. She followed Anakin and Barriss out of the chambers and down the long hall, still drowning in the waves of guilt that crashed over her. When they were finally out of earshot, Anakin turned to her.

“Ahsoka, I know how upset you are but you know you must control your emotions around the Council.”

“I know, Master,” she admitted. “I just feel so awful, so guilty.” She turned to Barriss and gave her a pleading look. “We were so close and we had no idea! We could have… We should have…”

Ahsoka’s voice trailed off uselessly. Barriss fixed her with a sympathetic look and reached out to grab her hand.

“There was nothing we could have done, Ahsoka,” Barriss assured her softly. “We only had limited communication with the ground troops and even then, there was no way we could have known.”

For some reason, Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to yank her hand away. She turned her attention to Anakin instead.

“But if we had been there then none of this would have happened! Krell never would have done any of this if another Jedi had been there; that’s why he sent you away!”

“We don’t know that for sure, Ahsoka,” Anakin replied evenly. “Believe me, I’m just as angry about this as you are. But we can’t beat ourselves up over what we think we should’ve done differently or dwell on the ‘what if’s. You know that-“

“I need to see them,” Ahsoka cut across him suddenly, as though the thought had possessed her in both mind and body. “We’ve been back for nearly a full rotation and I haven’t seen a single one of them and they probably think I don’t even care at all and-“

 _“Ahsoka,”_ Anakin interrupted her gently but firmly. “Have you considered that the men might not _want_ to see you?”

His words may as well have been a blaster bolt directly to her chest.

“Not… not want…? Why would they not want…?” She was well aware that her words were only coming in fragments but she didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it. “But they’re my friends,” she protested weakly.

“I know,” Anakin’s voice was soft and gentle, like she was a stray tooka and he was trying not to spook her into turning tail and running away. “But you’re still a Jedi and I imagine they probably don’t really want to see a Jedi right now.”

Ahsoka swallowed hard to down the lump in her throat. Of course she was a Jedi but that didn’t mean she was like _him_ . She would never knowingly put her men in danger; hell, she would gladly lay down her own life for any of them. Surely they knew that. They _had_ to know that.

“Okay,” she said at long last. “I’ll just… go meditate then.”

Anakin nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, Padawan.”

Ahsoka bid them both farewell and headed back down the long hallway, turning left once and then doubling back around the far side of the Temple that would lead her outside. Vaguely, she wondered if Anakin had seen straight through her. If he had, he made no move to stop her.

The sun was warm against her lekku as she descended the Temple steps and made her way past the guard and out of the gate. There was a part of her that knew Anakin had a point. The men of the 501st had been subjected to terrible cruelty at the hands of a Jedi, a man they were supposed to have been able to trust with their lives. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to blame them if they never wanted to see her - or any other Jedi, for that matter - ever again.

But these men were her friends, the same ones she had not only fought beside time and time again but who she’d come to see as her own family. Or at least, the only family she would ever be able to have. What would she do without Fives’ random and hilariously inappropriate messages pinging her data pad at all hours of the day and night? Or without Kix’s gentle admonishments whenever she snuck into the med bay for bacta patches to treat her training injuries? Or without Rex-

She nearly pulled up short right there in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. Her feelings for Rex had been… complicated, to say the least, for quite a while now. She knew her feelings had far surpassed those of a mere platonic friendship long ago. But she also knew those feelings were off-limits to her as a Jedi, on top of the fact that the Captain would never reciprocate them. The knowledge was a vibroblade sunk deeply into the tender flesh of her heart, the leftover ache something that permeated every facet of her being. But above all else, Rex was her very best friend. If there was something irreparable between them… Ahsoka wasn’t sure she could take it.

She had to show them that she understood. That was why she needed to see them; she had to make them remember that she was different, that she was their friend and she would _never_ let harm come to them. Not if she could help it.

She crested the steps to the bunkhouse and reached out to enter her access code but paused midway. She’d walked in hundreds of times without invitation but something about it felt wrong now, like she would have been trespassing somewhere she shouldn’t have been. Her fingers curled in on themselves and she drew her hand back, holding it close against her chest.

The cold durasteel door in front of her looked exactly as it always did: tall and sturdy, with just the faintest outline of a large dent visible from the outside. The corners of her mouth turned upward. She knew that from the other side it was human-shaped, an innocent casualty caught in the path of Echo and Hardcase on a night when they had entirely too much energy to burn.

The memory was a fist clutching tightly at her heart. Hardcase, she knew, had not made it back from Umbara.

Sadness and rage washed over her again in equal measure but she forced them back down. She didn’t know exactly why she was hesitating but she knew she couldn’t stand out on the front steps forever. With a final deep breath to steady herself, Ahsoka unglued her hand from her chest, reached out toward the door, and knocked.

* * *

_**Rex’s POV** _

This morning had been a blur. He’d woken from his nightmare in the dead of night, shivering and ridden with guilt and self-loathing. He'd refused to close his eyes again after that. It had felt like an eternity before he’d heard the muted grunts and shuffling around him that announced his brothers were beginning to stir. He’d risen immediately, the wet patch on his blacks long since dried although the shame and embarrassment of it was still clinging to his sticky skin. He was exhausted and restless at the same time, itching for action, for something to occupy his mind and his time. 

He’d helped Kix look over his fellow soldiers, assisting him if he needed anything and listening to whatever the troopers cared to divulge. To his immense relief, most of the men seemed okay, or at least relatively unharmed physically, and they were cleared to go. A few remained, their injuries at the hands of that...that _monster_ too severe to heal overnight. Tup, with a deep gash in his stomach and a few broken ribs. Boro and Del, both with critical leg wounds and unable to walk. Nax, who was still unconscious. Joc and Ince who had been recently moved to bacta tanks… 

He’d trailed behind Kix, tirelessly visiting each man and offering what comfort he was able. He knew it didn’t mean much in the long run. It was _his_ fault that they were here in the first place.

The guilt, the _accountability_ of it all settled in his stomach, rolling around and making him sick. He clenched his fists at his sides, setting his jaw and swallowing the nausea back down his throat, willing his body to ignore it. It should have been him. 

_It should have been him._

He would have taken the place of _any_ of his men, even those who had been murdered in battle. He would have taken their place willingly and without hesitation. But he was denied that luxury. In some ways, he thought bitterly, those who died had been the lucky ones. At the moment he couldn’t imagine anything worse than living with this pain, this _overwhelming_ _guilt_ and helplessness. The bile rose in his throat again and he swiftly excused himself, gaining the sink in the fresher just in time to empty what small amount of rations he’d consumed since he’d returned down the drain. 

Still heaving but with nothing left to give and his head pounding fit to split in half, he raised himself up to look in the mirror in front of him. His reflection made him suck in a harsh breath, which in turn threatened to bring up the last dregs of any stomach contents it could scrape up. He willed himself to breathe slowly and evenly and he tried again.

He looked haunted. His appearance was haggard, unshaven, with eyes puffy and red from lack of sleep or from weeping or the combination of both. _Empty_. He looked pale and defeated... _weak_. 

It was that more than anything that forced him to splash water on his face, to stand up straighter, and to _get a grip on himself_. If this was what his men saw right now when they looked at him, he wouldn’t blame them if they straightaway requested a transfer to the 212th. He was disgusted with himself afresh for allowing himself to get to this state. 

He sighed and began to peel off his blacks, not even bothering to close the door. He left them on the floor, stained and tarnished as the rest of his person and he stepped into the fresher. He let the cold water run down his tense and strained body for a few minutes, letting the shock of it pull him sharply back to reality. Part of him felt as though he deserved it, that shock, that almost-pain of the icy water as it hit him in harsh jets. Some small penance for his failures on Umbara.

He finished his shower the way he’d begun it in a way, shivering and still somehow feeling unclean. He was just stepping out of the fresher when he heard Kix shout it.

“Commander on deck!”

He hastily toweled off and as he did, he caught snippets of the conversation through the crack where he’d left the door open.

“Kix, it’s just me...You don’t have to -”

 _Oh great, Ahsoka,_ he thought. 

A part of him knew it was inevitable that she would come. They’d been... _friends_...for a long time. He’d considered her a good friend actually. Hell, he’d wanted…

 _On your knees_.

He shoved the image aside. Whatever they’d been - whatever _she’d_ been before - it wasn’t the same now. It couldn’t be. She’d been there on Umbara, only not on the ground with her troops. No, not this time...not when they _-_ not when _he -_ had needed her the most. She’d been safe up there in her starfighter, blissfully unaware, lofty and privileged like a _Jedi_ , while he and his brothers had been butchered in the shadowy trenches below. The anger and possessiveness was rising inside of him.

_On your knees._

He shook his head. That wasn’t entirely fair. Her orders had been to command the air assault. She’d just been following orders. _Like he had_.

 _On your knees_.

The memory was insistent, floating before his eyes, clear as it had been last night. Ahsoka on her knees in front of him, his twitching cock in her mouth and her eyes locked on his. He’d _ordered_ her to service him like that. He’d had power, and pleasure, and real total _control_ for once in his short life and it had felt so good. _So fucking good_. 

Now that the memory had once again firmly entrenched itself in his mind, he was having a much harder time expelling it. Especially when he could hear her right now, a few short strides from the door he was still lingering behind. But that other part of him rankled at the sound of her innocent voice. She had been there. She had been there and she hadn’t done a _karking thing_ to stop the massacre beneath her. 

If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to see _any_ Jedi right now, but his relationship with Ahsoka was especially...complicated. Especially now that his inappropriate desire for her had weaseled its way into his dreams to give him twisted and fucked-up visions of what he wanted from her...

He took several long moments to pull himself together. He had three choices now. He could hide in the fresher, he could pull on his soiled blacks and make his way to the med bay, or he could leave the towel on and head to the med bay. None of these options were good, but putting his blacks back on was really the only halfway decent option so that’s what he did, cringing as he sealed them back in place. He stepped into the corridor and walked steadily back to the med bay.

He could hear their voices as he approached, giving him some indication as to the situation he was barging into.

“...Here you are, Kix.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Both of their voices were strained and formal, but amiable. He rounded the corner, witnessing Ahsoka handing a medpatch to Kix while he changed the dressings on Boro, who was gritting his teeth and breathing through his nose in an effort not to make a noise. 

He wasted no time, making directly for Ahsoka and Kix, wanting no more than to get this over with so that he could be alone with his convoluted feelings and in a clean set of blacks.

She saw his approach and smiled warmly at him, her eyes watery but excited as they found his own. He felt torn. A part of him wanted her to just hold him and another part of him wanted to push her out the door so that he could be alone. She opened her mouth to speak and he realized he wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say. 

He cut across her, “Commander. What can we do for you?”

She looked as though he’d just slapped her in the face. Her mouth was opened as though still determined to speak, but no sound came out other than maybe the strangled remnants of a gasp not yet fully formed. A small part of him squirmed in regret that he’d caused this reaction. A larger part of him glorified in her pain, such a small dose of what he and his men had endured while she’d been _following orders_ , high up in the clouds and unburdened with the suffering of her troopers. His frown deepened.

“Rex…” Her eyes were flitting between his own, searching unsuccessfully for something. 

_Are you looking for forgiveness?_ He held her gaze, steely and cold. Empty. _You won’t find it. Not today. Maybe not ever_. 

She swallowed hard, her eyes unwilling to abandon their quest as they pondered his own. “Rex, I - I’m so sorry.” 

He clenched his teeth. _Sorry_ wasn’t good enough. _Tell Hardcase you’re sorry. Or Waxer. Tell them. Like I’ve tried to._

His jaw set and his throat nominally working, he fought to keep his voice even and devoid of emotion. _Like Krell’s had been_. “Apology noted, Commander.”

He felt like a monster as the words tumbled from his lips, but he also felt so...vindicated maybe? Exonerated in a way as he heaped his own feelings of blame and inadequacy onto her slender shoulders. Let her try it on for size; he’d worn it long enough. _She_ should have been there. _She_ could have stopped this. Wasn’t that what Jedi were supposed to do? Protect and guard peace in the galaxy?

His hands were balled into fists at his sides and he was slightly trembling. With all the willpower he had left, he unclenched them and forced his body to still, to stand as tall and rigid as he was able to before her. Unafraid of her or of himself. At least that’s how he hoped he looked.

“Okay, um...thank you, Rex.” Her voice was as choked and broken as it felt like his heart was, and again a pang of guilt descended into his gut and twisted around like a hot vibro-knife. She bravely continued and the vibro-knife hummed wickedly, carving its way in deeper and deeper. “Rex, I - I want to help. In any way that I can...I - I just...I just want to help. If you’ll let me,” she finished lamely, her gaze begging him to let her.

 _On your knees_.

Another dark sensation was winding its way into his gut now. Desire, he realized as he stared into her vivid and pleading eyes. Desire and power. He held all of the cards right now. He could delight or crush her with a word. Some sick and twisted semblance of control over _something_.

He felt ill again at the thoughts he was having. He shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes to the floor as another wave of embarrassment crashed over him. This wasn’t him…

 _This wasn’t him_.

He swallowed hard, his throat burning as it held back whatever was rising from deep inside, but he succeeded in taming it. For now. “Thank you, Commander.” He wanted her to stay. He wanted her to go. “We’ve got the situation well under control. Your concern is noted.”

She opened her mouth to speak and he waited patiently, almost curious to see what she might do. Would she challenge him or would she bend to his decision and leave?

“Okay, Rex. I - I,” she wasn’t looking at him anymore and she sounded as crushed and defeated as he felt. Her voice was small and timid as she continued, “I, um, I just needed you to know....needed you _all_ to know...that I’m here for you if you need anything.” Her voice was steadily gaining momentum and assurance as she went on. “I can’t imagine what you’ve all been through but please believe me when I say I’d have taken the place of any one of you if I could.” Her eyes locked onto his again. “And if you want me - _for anything_ \- I am here for you. For all of you.”

She turned to make her way to the door and Rex opened his own mouth now to speak. He wasn’t sure what he would have said. Maybe that he knew she’d meant it. Maybe to apologize. Maybe to tell her ‘duly noted’ once again. He never got the chance to find out.

“Thank you, Sir,” said Kix quietly. “It - it’s just...a lot...right now. But we - we do understand, Sir.” As Rex looked around he noticed a few of the men nod in agreement, while some of the others looked resolutely forward, making no committed response at all.

Ahsoka nodded silently and without another word, turned and left the med bay, leaving Rex alone to decide if he’d made the right or wrong decision. 

_Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading and for all of your kudos, bookmarks and comments! We love to hear your thoughts and ideas! <3


	3. The Captain and his Commander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Please be aware that there is some content in this chapter of a darker sexual nature (similar to the prologue). I (sushifish) am personally very sensitive to this sort of content, so I wanted to drop a quick warning here in case any of you struggle with this as well. All interactions in this fic are (and always will be!) 100% consensual, but we are aware that this material may still be triggering for some and want to ensure you all know what you are getting into and are not caught unaware. This is a safe space and we want you to enjoy your reading experience, so we completely understand if this chapter is one you may need to skip!
> 
> If you do prefer to skip over that material, feel free to scroll all the way to the end of this chapter. Scroll up until you see the line beginning with "Anakin entered the room" - anything after that is safe, aside from our usual angst :)

**_Ahsoka's POV_ **

Ahsoka’s hands were cold, the blood running through her veins having long since turned to ice despite the relative warmth of the room. A tight coil of anxiety was wound deep in her core and when she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat, she found that her tongue had turned to sandpaper inside her mouth. Spindly fingers of unease were dancing up and down her spine. She could feel him watching her from his place at her back, the twin suns of his eyes searing holes through her battledress. She felt wildly exposed under his gaze, like she was standing in the middle of the room naked as the day she was born.

“You want to _help?_ ”

He spat the word onto the ground at her feet like it was poison in his mouth. His voice had taken on a dark undertone, colored with something Ahsoka could only describe as being unhinged _._ For a moment, she wasn’t entirely convinced it belonged to Rex at all. A fearful shudder traced the length of her spine and with it, something else she couldn’t quite name.

Ahsoka could feel his presence just as she could feel her own heartbeat. He wasn’t pacing, wasn’t moving closer to or away from her. He was just standing there, still as a statue, radiating an indiscernible _something_ that set her nerves aflame.

“Fine,” he continued at long last. “You want to make yourself useful?”

The air caught in her lungs when he crossed the space between them. His hands closed around her narrow hips in a way that sent her bones rattling with violent shivers. He stood so close that she could feel the full line of his body pressed against her - the hard planes of his chest against her exposed back, his throbbing cock straining beneath his blacks…

A low moan rose unbidden in her throat and she nearly choked as she tried to swallow it back down. When he spoke again, she could feel his breath hot against her montrals.

“Bend over.”

Her core clenched impossibly tight even as her eyes grew wide with shock. This couldn’t be Rex; there was no way. He would never say something so crass to her, something so completely and utterly vulgar _._ Not in a million rotations. And yet-

“Go on, Commander,” he punctuated his words with a nudge of his hips that did nothing but send unwelcome waves of desire crashing over her. “You told me to let you know if I wanted you for anything. I do.”

Rex trailed his lips down her lek before nosing it out of the way. She felt the sharp sting of his teeth against her neck and it wrenched a gasp from her throat.

“And I think you know exactly what _anything_ is.”

Ahsoka could feel her head reeling. She knew she should reprimand him, should push him away and extricate herself from the situation as quickly as her body would allow. But she felt unexplainably torn. Part of her knew exactly what she should do. The other part wanted nothing more than to bend to his every whim and let him take any and every piece of her that he possibly desired.

It was clear which part of her was winning.

She could feel his smirk as her palms found his desk top, papers and data pads and blaster parts clattering to the ground as she folded in front of him. His hands left her hips for a moment and she heard the tell-tale sound of the seal releasing from his blacks. And then they were back on her, smoothing up her thighs and dipping beneath the hem of her battledress. He nudged her feet further apart with one booted foot and she didn’t even try to stifle her gasp when she felt him pressing against her. One hand gripped himself at the base and held him steady, the tip of him flushed and leaking at her entrance.

“Is this what you want, Commander? You want to serve your Captain?”

Her fingers curled against the desk so tightly she thought her nails would leave gouges in the wood. She could do nothing but nod, ashamed at the way her arousal was nearly dripping down her thighs. One of his hands pressed into the small of her back as he leaned over her to growl against her montral once more.

_“Beg.”_

Ahsoka sat bolt upright in her bed with a start and Rex’s name tumbling from her lips in a high-pitched gasp. One hand clutched at her heaving chest as she struggled to channel air into her lungs, her eyes wide and frantically scanning the room while she tried to get her bearings.

She was in her room; that much she knew for sure. Not Rex’s. And she was alone, which meant it had been… a dream. It had all been a dream.

So why could she still feel his hand sliding up her spine to press between her shoulder blades? She knew she was wide awake, could see with her own eyes that she was very clearly in her own room, and yet she could feel him between her legs, could hear his voice as if he were still right behind her.

 _“It’s_ Captain _when I’m inside of you, Commander.”_

Another gasp died in her throat and Ahsoka felt like the bed had collapsed beneath her. She knew he wasn’t there. She _knew_ it and yet it still felt so visceral, so undeniably real that she couldn’t help but doubt her own mind. She screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to focus, to clear her mind and fortify the walls she’d erected to keep herself in and anything else out.

The air seemed to be sucked from the room in a rush. When she dared to open her eyes again, Ahsoka was left with nothing but the cold sweat on her skin and a dull, throbbing ache between her thighs.

What was happening? She’d had dreams before, obviously. She’d even had Force visions a handful of times. But this didn’t feel like either of those. This felt decidedly _other_ , like she was both there and not there, an active participant while also watching it happen as though she were outside of her own body. It unnerved her in a way Ahsoka didn’t particularly want to acknowledge. And on top of it all, the subject matter had been…

A shiver raced down the length of her spine. She knew she should be horrified - and she was, in a way. But not at Rex, at herself. Because she - the dream version of herself, the one sitting on her bed right now, whatever - had _enjoyed_ it. He’d been filthy and demanding and controlling with her and Maker help her, just the reminder caused her to clench around nothing. Even now, there was a sharp sting against her backside that she couldn’t explain but that very nearly tore a wanton sound from her throat.

What was _wrong_ with her?

Ahsoka flung the blankets off of her bed and padded across the floor to her tiny ‘fresher. She hoped splashing some cool water on her face would be enough to wash away the lingering memory of her dream-but-not-a-dream. It nearly worked until she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the mirror. There, at the juncture where her neck curved into her shoulder, were the blue-tinted beginnings of a distinctly mouth-shaped bruise.

Ahsoka jerked away as though she’d been burned. Her hand flew to the spot where she’d been marked, hoping her eyes were deceiving her. But as her fingertips danced over the tender flesh, she could feel a series of tiny little indentations embedded in her skin. Teeth marks. _Rex’s_ teeth marks.

She stumbled from the ‘fresher in a daze and leaned against the wall, desperate for something with which she could anchor herself. She was going insane, she was sure of it. That was the only possible explanation. Anything else was even _more_ outlandish and she couldn’t even bring herself to entertain the possibility.

She stood there, rooted to the spot and almost afraid to even try to move, until the first rays of daylight started to peek through her window. A soft _ping_ from her data pad brought Ahsoka’s mind back within her grasp. She crossed to her desk on unsteady legs and tapped in her passcode to read the message. Her brow markings knit together tightly.

An assignment? With the 501st? It wouldn’t have caused her to have a second thought any other time, but now… She knew the men were still reeling from what happened on Umbara. _She_ was still reeling from what happened on Umbara. For the Council to approve a mission so soon seemed surprising to her. Though, as she considered it further, she realized it really shouldn’t have. Ahsoka would have bet every credit she had that Rex had requested an assignment as soon as he’d been able. Anakin’s message contained no real details outside of a departure time, though that wasn’t unusual for him. She assumed it would likely be something fairly straightforward - recon maybe? It shouldn’t have been anything that would cause chill bumps to break out over the surface of her skin but the thought of being face-to-face with Rex after the night she’d had… well, it didn’t exactly quell the frantic pounding of her heart. How long had it been since his cool, apathetic treatment of her in the bunkhouse?

Six, she knew. That was the number of rotations since she’d seen him last. Fourteen was the number of times she’d punched his identifier into her comm device before thinking better of it. Three, the number of messages she’d typed on her data pad only to clear them out as fast as her fingers would allow. One, how many times she’d nearly reached for him in the Force before drawing back in on herself with a devastated sigh.

Ahsoka knew she had no real reason to be so nervous. He was still Rex, her best friend. Rex, the man she’d known for years. Rex, the man she’d served beside in battle after battle, the man she trusted to have her back in any situation.

The man for whom she’d long ago developed decidedly inappropriate feelings, about whom she quite often found herself having decidedly _salacious_ thoughts.

Ahsoka frowned and pulled herself to stand up straight. She was being ridiculous. There was no sense in wasting time dwelling on a dream that _couldn’t_ have been anything more than a particularly vivid conjuring of her unconscious mind. She would march herself onto the _Resolute_ and look him in the eyes as she always did. And if he still couldn’t bring himself to look back, then… well, then she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

With her jaw set in determination, Ahsoka crossed to her small wardrobe and chose one of her go-to maroon battle dresses. As she tugged it on along with her leggings and boots, she couldn’t help but silently extend her gratitude to the Force that the mysterious bruise was well-covered. Clipping the belt holding her lightsabers around her waist, Ahsoka stepped from the room and began making her way across the Temple to the hangar that housed the _Resolute_ , willing herself to maintain her composure.

Zero. That was exactly how much stock she was putting in that dream of hers.

She marched past the men milling about outside of the ship just as she always did, extending a few polite greetings and steeling herself when she noticed a handful of eyes dart away in haste. She couldn’t blame them. Really, she couldn’t. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

She strode up the access ramp and down the hall to the ship’s small conference room where she knew she would find Rex and Anakin waiting for her. Still, when she rounded the corner into the doorway, it was like a pin had pierced the tender casings of her lungs and let all of the air out of her body entirely. Anakin wasn’t there; only Rex, standing behind the long table and looking equally as caught off guard by her presence. Ahsoka blinked at him for a moment, frozen in place, before he finally cleared his throat.

“Commander,” he acknowledged her simply, formally, as though he wasn’t tearing her heart from her very chest and crushing it beneath his boot.

She swallowed hard and returned the greeting, his title rolling off her tongue with a heaviness she’d never before experienced.

 _“It’s_ Captain _when I’m inside of you, Commander.”_

She could feel the fire raging in her cheeks as she took her place across the table from him. Anakin swept in behind her and Ahsoka cast her eyes away from Rex, unable to stop her fingers from rising to her neck, brushing over the fabric of her battle dress that covered the angry looking mark that she knew marred her skin.

* * *

_**Rex's POV** _

He was standing in his office, Ahsoka with her back to him in her form-fitting battledress and shivering. The image should have made him feel something. In some deep and faraway corner of his mind, he knew he should be concerned, ashamed, disturbed or even confused. He didn’t feel any of those things. He only felt seething and unchecked anger. 

He knew why she was here and he resented it. The last time a _Jedi_ had tried to convince him they were doing the right thing...well, he didn’t want to think about it. He _refused_ to think about it. So he shoved it away, as far back in his mind as he could push it, locking it up tight. 

“You want to _help?_ ”

She shivered and so did he. Her with fear and him with a sudden and unwelcome spark of arousal. He let his eyes roam shamelessly over her bare back, down her hips and then back up, a wicked caress that a part of him knew was violating her but it didn’t deter him. He _knew_ she’d feel his gaze on her and he _wanted_ her to. His body responded eagerly to her near nakedness, his cock hard as beskar and throbbing already beneath his blacks as he watched her shiver again. 

The idea came to him immediately as he watched her standing there so innocently. She looked so pure and he’d always felt she was unattainable for him. He was a clone and she was a _Jedi_ . He was beneath her. Just like he’d been on Umbara. And yet here she was, almost bare before him and asking if she could _help_. Well, maybe she could in more ways than one. He’d test her and see how far she’d go to _help_ him. Maybe she’d let him take a little bit from her like the Jedi had taken it from him.

 _Lets see if you mean it,_ Jedi _. How far will you go, Ahsok_ \- Jedi - _to help me?_

“Fine. You want to make yourself useful?” He closed the distance between them confidently and seized her hips, yanking her flush up against him in one sudden movement. Her sharp intake of breath told him that she felt his throbbing desire for her hot and needy against her backside.

He bent his head to her montrals and commanded, “Bend over.” He heard her suck in another breath and he continued, his cock now leaking in anticipation of what he just _knew_ she was going to give him. 

“Go on, Commander.” He thrust against her ass teasingly. He could practically _feel_ her answering desire radiating off her in waves. Something about it, something about this whole thing, made him angry but also so incredibly aroused. More aroused than he’d ever been in his whole fucking life. Maybe it was the fact that she was allowing this. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to actually _get_ it. Either way, it was driving him crazy.

“You told me to let you know if I wanted you for anything.” Another roll of his hips against her. “ _I do.”_

He kissed her lek almost tenderly, before nuzzling it gently out of the way of his goal. He sank his teeth into the virgin skin of her throat and drank in her gasp at his violence. In sharp contrast to his teeth on her neck, he purred softly, “And I think you know exactly what _anything_ is.” 

He _knew_ she was going to give it to him. _Knew_ she was going to let him take what he wanted so badly. He should be elated but instead it made him enraged. She shouldn’t be giving in like this and he shouldn’t be demanding it of her. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t him. He knew it, somewhere deep inside, but he _wanted_ it all the same and fucking Maker if she was giving it to him, he was going to _take_ it. 

He smirked as he watched her reach the same conclusion. She bent slowly across his desk, scattering everything on its surface and he squeezed her hips hard in encouragement. _Good girl_.

He pulled away just for a moment to take himself out before gripping her hips again, harder than before. He used his boot to toe her feet where he wanted them and then he pressed against her, giving her a moment to gasp again as he teased her entrance.

“Is this what you want, Commander? You want to _serve_ your Captain?” He watched her head bob up and down in a nod and he allowed himself one more self-satisfied smirk before one of his hands slid up to the small of her back and he leaned forward, growling against her montral, “ _Beg_.”

To his surprise and pleasure, she did. Immediately and fervently chanting his name, _begging,_ just as he’d demanded she do, for him to fucking take her. He thrust all the way in, enjoying the way her wet heat clenched around him and fighting the sounds of pleasure threatening to escape his own lips. He leaned forward again to rumble against her montral as his teeth grazed along the vein, “Its _Captain_ when I’m inside of you, Commander.”

A filthy sound escaped her mouth at that and she rasped out, “Yes, Captain. Oh please, more Captain!”

He growled now, the sound dark and rich and full of the promise of something shadowy and frightening. It should have been terrifying for both of them. Instead she threw her head back in pleasure as he snapped his hips forward, taking her hard and fast and without a thought to her own pleasure. 

This was his dream and it wasn’t about her. It was about him taking that one fucking piece of control back. Getting that one fucking step up on a Jedi, _any_ Jedi, as some sort of sick and twisted revenge for what they’d done to him.

She felt so good stretched around him like this, completely wanton and at his mercy and he was enthralled by it. He’d wanted her for so long and to give in to his dark desires, even in a dream, was almost too much to take. One hand still on her hip, fingers digging in painfully, his other hand slid up her spine to grab her back lek, stroking it a little harshly as he pounded into her. She moaned long and deep and that sound tore through him, making him half mad with want. He raised the hand that had been gripping her hip and brought it down hard, his palm slapping her ass with enough force to leave an angry red mark in its wake. She whimpered in pleasure at that and he did it again. 

He could feel her clenching around him now; she was close. He leaned forward and nipped her shoulder, “You want to come, Commander?”

She whimpered again, the sound pitiful and wrecked and he found that part of him felt proud to have gotten her to this state. Part of him debated whether to leave her like this, unsatisfied and frustrated and beautiful and maybe even as angry as he was. But a larger part of him right now wanted to feel her climax around him, _on his terms_.

“Beg me. _Beg_ _me,_ Commander and maybe I’ll let you come on my cock.”

The sounds coming out of her mouth right now were lewd and vulgar and _desperate._ He drank them all in and they tasted finer and more magnificent than anything he’d ever consumed before. _“Beg me_ ,” he ordered.

“Captain... _please...oh please Captain,_ let me come!” He thought about making her wait, about hearing her sweet voice plead with him some more before he let her find her release. But he was close and he wanted to feel her. _Now_.

“Come for your Captain.” he growled. She instantly complied, her body convulsing wildly as she clenched hard around him. He could have sworn he heard “Rex…” tumble from her lips as she reached her peak, but he couldn’t be sure. 

He pushed his introspections aside as he reached for his own satisfaction. He thrusted into her with bruising force now, the feeling of her slick release enticing him to reach his own. Both hands now on her hips and jerking her back against him with every forward thrust of his own, the pleasure of it all finally overtook him. He bucked into her a few more times and released everything he had deep inside her, painting her walls with his depravity. As his body came down from its high, he pulled out and backed away a step.

“Did I help you, Captain?” She prodded gently from her vulnerable position still slumped over his desk with their combined juices running down her legs obscenely. “Do you feel better now?”

He didn’t. Not really. Not at all. 

His eyes snapped open and darted around the room, taking in his surroundings. He was in his office, sitting in his chair, just as he’d been before the unwelcome demands of sleep had consumed him. Papers, datapads and spare blaster parts that he’d been working on were now scattered across the floor. He wondered if he’d knocked them off in his tumultuous sleep or if Ahsoka had brushed them all aside before he’d taken her. 

No, that was wrong, because it was just a dream, no matter how real it had felt. Ahsoka hadn’t been here. She couldn’t have been.

A pang of guilt and regret hit him hard in the gut. He had used her. It had been a dream, but he’d used her. Used her like she was nothing more than some karking tool to get him off. He’d wanted to have her for _so long_ but to have taken her like that, so violently, so carelessly, just felt wrong. Wrong but so, so good. The thought scared him, whether it had been a dream or not. It had felt so real...

He could feel the anger welling up inside of him again.This wasn’t fair! This was a dream - _his dream_ \- and he should at least be able to catch a break here! As if his waking moments weren’t bad enough, now he had to feel guilty about his fucking dreams too?

He sighed and stood up, noticing as he did that his cock was out of his blacks and sticky with his release. His eyes widened and he blinked uncomprehendingly. Had he taken himself out while dreaming and gotten off? That seemed like a stretch, but what other explanation could there be?

His datapad pinged from somewhere in the far corner of the room, where it had been flung either in his sleep or… Well, it must have been in his sleep. He tucked himself back in and sealed his blacks before walking over to pick up the datapad to read the message. He would figure this...whatever it was... out another time.

The message was from Anakin. His heart leapt when he read that he’d finally been assigned a mission and then it plummeted when he saw that Ahsoka would be escorting him and the 501st on this one. Great. _Just kriffing great_. Between their awkward encounter in the bunkhouse med bay almost a week ago and his increasingly graphic and fucked up dreams of her, he couldn’t think of anything worse than to be near her for his first mission after Umbara. 

But he didn’t really have a choice and he desperately wanted to re-establish some form of normalcy and control in his shattered life. He knew how to command, he knew how to fight - hell, that was _all_ he knew - and he was ready to get back into it and prove that he could handle it. That he was better than Umbara and that he wouldn’t _ever_ make those same mistakes again. That he’d _die_ before he made those same mistakes again. He sighed and began to kit up. 

He made his way to the briefing room and found he was the first one there. He claimed his usual spot around the large table and waited patiently for everyone to arrive. He hadn’t been there long when Ahsoka walked in. 

He couldn't stop the tension from overtaking his body when she walked in. She was wearing her maroon battle dress and he knew he shouldn't be surprised. She typically wore it when they went on a mission, but images from his recent dream flooded his vision and suddenly all he could think about was bending her over that table in the briefing room and having her again. 

But that wasn't right because he hadn't really fucked her at all. It had only been a dream. 

She looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He fought the urge to bring his hand up and run it across his blonde buzzcut in nervousness, forcing his arm instead to stay still at his side. 

"Commander." It sounded austere and aloof even to his own ears and a small part of him wished he'd just kept his mouth shut. He felt conflicted and confused, which seemed to be his constant state of being these days. He just wanted things to go back to normal. Was that too much to fucking ask? 

"Captain." She returned. Something about how she’d said it made him really take notice. It was as stiff as his own greeting but it also sounded...charged somehow? Laced with something he couldn’t explain. Maybe embarrassed? She sounded a bit like his body felt right now. 

_It's_ Captain _when I'm inside of you, Commander._

He watched a blush creep up in her cheeks and that did nothing to alleviate the feeling that was inexorably creeping across his body as he watched her. She couldn't have known what he was thinking, could she? Her hand came up to glide bashfully along her neck. He remembered biting her there, _hard_ , in his dream. 

_It was a dream...wasn't it?_

His brain suddenly began to buzz with a new and terrible possibility. What if this was some sort of depraved Jedi mind trick? She'd been his friend, she would never…

_Would she?_

His stomach dropped into his boots at the thought. After all, he’d never suspected General Krell. He'd never have suspected _any_ of them, but least of all _her…_ Who could he really trust when it came right down to it? Maybe none of them. Part of his heart cracked in half at the abhorrent thoughts he was having right now. The other part hardened into an impenetrable fortress guarding vigilantly against any further treachery. 

His hands curled into fists at his sides as he willed his mind and body to settle down. The anger and the desperate need for any kind of _control_ were rising as he stared at her flushed cheeks. This was dangerous, whatever it was, and he needed to suppress it right the fuck now. Before he did something he couldn't take back. Something he might regret or he might not, but something dangerous and… final somehow. 

He pinched his eyes shut for a brief moment while he regained a steady and regular pattern of breathing. He hoped he hadn't given anything away. Hoped he hadn't projected anything more than cool, emotionless indifference. He hoped…

Anakin entered the room, successfully breaking his train of thought. He shifted his body just slightly so that he was at full attention, formal and unshakable and ready for orders. A perfect clone trooper of the GAR. What they expected of him.

Rex thought he glimpsed the shadow of hurt pass over Anakin’s eyes but it was gone as soon as it had come, leaving him wondering, as he had for what seemed like all morning so far, whether he'd imagined it or whether it had actually happened. 

"At ease," Anakin said calmly. Rex relaxed slightly, settling into perfect parade rest. "I've received several requests now from you Captain, stating that you're ready for assignment."

"Yes, Sir. Awaiting your orders, Sir."

Anakin looked thoughtful. "Are you sure, Rex?" He said gently. "You and your men -"

"Yes, General. We're ready to ship out at your say-so, Sir." He knew, somewhere deep in his gut where the guilt and anxiety were now carving out a permanent space, that Anakin meant well. But he didn't want to hear it. He just wanted his assignment. No small talk, no apologies, no thinking about anything, just his fucking assignment. 

Anakin sighed but thankfully capitulated. "Okay, Rex. I do have a mission for you. I need you to take a few of your men and head to the Felucia system. We've heard rumors that the Separatists have been trying to set up a blockade around the planet. We need a small team to go there and check it out. If they're trying to take back the system, we need to know about it." He fixed Rex with a serious look and his next words came slowly, as though he were weighing each syllable carefully. "This is strictly a recon mission. You will go to Felucia, verify the presence of a blockade or the absence of one and then you will return here." 

Rex met his gaze, more than a little disappointed in this weak excuse for a mission, but maintaining an even and detached air as he listened. If this was all they'd give him, well, he'd take it. He'd take it and prove that he deserved more and better after it. "Understood, Sir. When do we ship out?"

Anakin eyed him critically before responding. "In an hour. Pick a few of your men to accompany you and then meet in the hangar. Ahsoka will be in charge and you'll report to her."

Rex's eyes found Ahsoka’s for the first time since Anakin had entered the briefing room. She looked defeated but determined, a dichotomous combination of resolve and anxiety that almost perfectly mirrored his own emotions. 

A month ago he'd have smiled at that. Today… well, today he fortified the walls of his mind and deepened the thoughtful frown that had permanently overtaken his lips these days. He held her gaze, challenging her, until she eventually looked away, her eyes on the floor now: defeated. Part of him roared triumphantly at his small conquest while another rapidly fading part failed to convince him that he was shoving away his only hope to claw his way out of this deep hole he was entrenched in. 

He ignored all feelings but the bitter triumph and strode forward, bumping her shoulder carelessly as he passed. He should apologize, he should say something. He didn't. He couldn't help but feel it was another choice in a long line of choices that might have been wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! As always, we can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter and where you think things are going! We love your theories!!


	4. The Burdens You Carry

_**Ahsoka's POV** _

Ahsoka stood beside the long table, mouth hanging open in stunned silence. One hand was still flat against the wooden top from where she’d braced herself to keep from toppling over. She removed it slowly, bringing it to her chest and letting her fingers curl in on themselves tightly, a futile attempt to keep her heart from tearing out of her chest and jumping to meet its end on the  _ Resolute  _ floor. Her shoulder burned with the weight of Rex’s gesture and she felt like it would’ve hurt less if he’d just drawn his DC-17s and sent a blaster bolt searing through her skin instead.

“Ahsoka?”

She nearly jumped at the sound of her name, having almost forgotten she wasn’t alone in the briefing room. When she turned, she found Anakin’s eyes clouded over with worry.

“I’m fine,” she replied instinctively. She’d hoped it would sound reassuring, perhaps even dismissive, but what came out was a strangled sort of squeak that may as well have been a flashing neon sign advertising her devastation.

“Snips,” he tried again, softer this time. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Ahsoka wouldn’t dare to meet his eyes. He wasn’t her Master in that moment; he was just Anakin, the person who loved her as though they had the same blood coursing through their veins. She knew what she would see reflected back in his gaze. And she knew that it would break her.

Already she could feel hot tears stinging the backs of her eyes. The lump that had risen in her throat threatened to choke the very life out of her and she had to swallow hard to force it back down. She could feel Anakin reaching for her in the Force, sending her comforting waves of reassurance that she couldn’t bring herself to accept. She drew in a shaky breath.

“Rex hates me,” she whispered at last, hating how small and broken her voice sounded even in her own montrals.

Before he could snap the protective barrier of his walls back to attention, Ahsoka felt Anakin’s heart crack in two.

“Rex doesn’t hate you, Snips,” he tried to assure her but she cut him off with a sharp shake of her head before he could continue.

“He does,” she insisted. “They all hate me. Kix, Fives, Jesse - they can barely even look at me. And when they do it’s like they’re-“ she broke off and had to take a deep breath to will herself to get the words out. “Like they’re disgusted by me.”

She didn’t need to see Anakin’s face to know that his brows were knit tightly together, his features set in a hard mask of determination. He rounded the table and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.

“They are  _ not  _ disgusted by you, Ahsoka; I promise. They know how much you care about them. They’ll come around eventually, they just need time to heal. What they went through at the hands of that- that monster…” his voice took on a hard edge, one Ahsoka had only heard from him a handful of times before. “Well, those kinds of things aren’t easy to come back from. But they’re strong; they’ll get through it. And so will you.”

“I know,” she whispered in an attempt to convince herself that she really believed it. “I know.”

Anakin gave her what she imagined was supposed to be a reassuring smile but she couldn’t miss the way it never quite reached his eyes.

“Why don’t you take a walk, clear your mind before you head out? I can make sure everything’s ready to go.”

Ahsoka nodded and thanked him. He released her after giving a parting squeeze to her shoulders and she had to fight hard to keep herself from wrapping her arms around her body in a desperate bid for some comfort. Anakin didn’t need to see how fragile she still felt and neither did her men. She would walk from the briefing room straight-backed and solid, even if she felt like a soft gust would cause her skin to break off and crumble at her feet.

And that was exactly what she did. She offered no polite greetings as she walked down the hall and none were freely offered to her. She refused to let her eyes lock onto any golden ones, even though each time a pair shifted hastily away felt like a pick being driven ever deeper into the stone of her foundation. That was fine. She could handle her men being unable - or was it unwilling? - to meet her gaze. She could handle the cool formality where once there had been warmth and joviality. She could handle anything, so long as there was someone around to see.

But when she rounded a corner and found the small hallway blissfully empty, she ducked inside the nearest doorway she could find, locking the access panel with a wave of her hand and a gentle nudge from the Force once she was safely behind the durasteel door. She turned her back to the door and let herself slide down it until she was on the floor, arms curling around her knees as she hugged them close and folded in on herself. With no one around to hear her, Ahsoka let her shoulders sag, dropped her head into the safety of her folded arms, and gave herself permission to come apart.

Every bit of guilt, anger and hurt rolled over her in waves, tumultuous and furious as they crashed against the shore of her skin. She sobbed out her anger at Krell, burning and ferocious with tears that may as well have been acid for how badly they stung her cheeks. She sobbed out her guilt, bone deep and aching, wrenched ruthlessly from her chest as though with an iron fist. She sobbed out her hurt, quiet and devastating, her shoulders wracking violently as her mind parsed out names and faces.

She cried for Hardcase, for Waxer and all of the men who hadn’t made it back from Umbara. She cried for her friends who felt lost to her now, shadows of the men they were before they’d departed and closed off to her in more ways than one. Kix, who’d turned to stone when their hands accidentally bumped in the med bay the day they’d returned. Fives, who’d opened her message on his data pad and let the tiny, arrogant “typing” bubble taunt her with a reply he never sent. Jesse, who’d dared to meet her eyes when she’d visited the bunkhouse only to quickly scamper away when a stray tear escaped and died on his cheek. Dogma, who was deep beneath the Jedi Temple awaiting a trial he didn’t deserve to have to face.

And Rex, who looked at her as though he’d prefer she be sucked into the unforgiving vacuum of space where he’d never have to worry about interacting with her again.

Only a few years prior, he’d found her sitting in this very same supply closet, tucked in the back corner. She’d hidden herself away after her first real failure, the first time in her life that she’d been unable to help someone who needed her. Rex had found her in a pile of rubble, surrounded by the pieces of the confident Jedi who’d never before known what it felt like to try her best and have it not be enough. He’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, had let her sob her despair into his armor before picking up her pieces one by one and helping her fit them back together again.

The reminder was a twist to the vibroblade buried deep in her heart and it yanked a strangled sob from her throat. Rex - her best friend, her Captain, her  _ person  _ \- was treating her like she was something vile that had somehow crawled its way up from the lowest levels of Coruscant. He was someone who knew her almost as well as - sometimes, she thought, even better than - she knew herself. He knew her heart, knew exactly the kind of person she was, and yet none of it seemed to matter. He’d already decided that she was no better than Krell.

Ahsoka could have understood if he’d been weary around her. She could have understood needing space, needing time to heal and reconcile what happened on Umbara with his relationships with other Jedi. But Rex was actively  _ choosing  _ to cast her aside, like everything they’d shared up to that point had been nothing real at all. He wasn’t just being standoffish or cold; he was being  _ cruel. _

And somewhere deep down in the mix of star fragments and space dust that made up her body, Ahsoka knew she didn’t deserve the way he was treating her. Not at all.

On unsteady legs she stood, drawing a deep breath into her lungs. She wiped her tender eyes with the backs of her hands and rolled her shoulders, straightening her spine and swallowing hard. She loved Rex - as her friend, as her Captain, as something distinctly  _ more  _ \- but she couldn’t go on feeling this way any more. She wouldn’t.

She reached out to the Force and let it cover her, seeping through her skin and filling up all the tiny empty spaces between her bones. She was a Jedi. She was Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan. She was Commander of the 501st Legion of the Grand Army of the Republic. And she was done letting  _ anyone  _ make her feel like anything less.

Resolved and determined, Ahsoka gave a wave of her hand and watched the closet door slide open. She stepped out of the doorway, turned to make her way back down the hall…

And collided directly into a solid wall of GAR-issue clone trooper armor.

The shock combined with the force of impact nearly knocked her onto her backside, but two strong hands closed firmly around her upper arms and kept her on her feet. They dropped almost instantly and when Ahsoka looked up, she found herself staring into a familiar pair of amber eyes.

She knew she looked a mess. She didn’t need a mirror to know that her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, her cheeks stained with tear tracks and her lips chapped and swollen. There was no doubt that he’d be able to tell she’d been crying. She fought down the shame that threatened to rise up within her and drew herself up to her full height, straight-backed and with all the confidence she could muster.

“Excuse me, Captain,” she said simply, her tone perfectly indifferent despite the evidence of her devastation still painted on her face. When he made no move to step aside, Ahsoka brushed past him, knocking her shoulder against his, and strode away with her head held high.

* * *

_**Rex’s POV** _

He just stood there, like a statue. Like he was frozen in carbonite and incapable of movement. His throat was sandpaper and his tongue durasteel and he could neither speak nor swallow. His heart felt like it had stopped, along with the flow of air to his depleted lungs. The only sensation he could focus on was the warm and electric tingle in his fingertips from where his gloved hand had touched her bare arms. It had invaded his pores, soaked right through his gloves like they weren’t even there and he wanted to hold onto it, this feeling, like he’d wanted to hold onto her. 

By the time his body had recovered and he was able to perform the simple movement of turning his torso around, she was long gone. Her voice was still hanging in the air around him, heavy as the weight of the entire galaxy.  _ Excuse me, Captain _ . It was kinder than he deserved but it still ripped through his heart as though it were made of paper. But it was the memory of her eyes that killed him, raw, red, and sad. So incredibly sad and just...desolate. That look in her eyes just now and the fear - no, the  _ knowledge _ \- that he was the one who had put it there was going to haunt him at least as much as Umbara, of that he was sure.

He’d never wanted this - never wanted  _ any _ of this. He didn’t want General Krell to betray them all, didn’t want his brothers to die at the hands of that madman, didn’t want to feel so lost, confused and just so kriffing weighed down with grief that it was hard to find the resolve to put his boots on each day. He hadn’t asked to be one of the few who survived. He hadn’t asked to have these feelings for Ahsoka, and he didn’t know how to stop them now that they’d completely overtaken his heart. He didn’t want them, or her, mixed up in his fucked up dreams or his resentment or confusion or...or  _ any _ of it. 

What he wanted more than anything was for things to go back to normal. Or what passed for normal for him. But that was impossible. Just like it was impossible for him to call Ahsoka back and apologize, like he really wished he could do.

He took a deep breath and forced his legs to bend and his feet to take the steps towards the bunkhouse. 

All of his thoughts from the briefing room, those nagging suspicions that Ahsoka might be trying to...well,  _ something  _ with the Force to him, it felt like complete banthashit now. Krell would never have cried like that. Krell wouldn’t have given one karking shit about what he thought or what he’d said, or how he felt, or  _ any  _ of it. He  _ knew  _ Ahsoka wasn’t like him, he’d always known it, way deep down, but he just couldn’t shake his uneasy feeling for all Jedi right now. 

How could he really trust them again? General Skywalker had put Krell in charge, had said they’d be in good hands and then had left without looking back or checking in on them after he’d gone. Just handed them off like you’d hand someone a spoon in the mess. Casually and irresponsibly. A throwaway gesture. And Ahsoka...well, she’d been there but not really there and that was somehow so much worse. She’d been high above, taking down ships as he’d been in the thick of it down below. He didn’t know if they had both meant well. He didn’t know what they’d meant to happen or not happen or if they’d meant anything at all, but he did know that it hadn’t been anyone’s priority to stop it until it was too late. Until Hardcase had died. Until Waxer…

Until all of them. So many of them.

He knew that being a clone meant your life was worth very little, they all did, but what Krell did was… It was just so far beyond anything he could have imagined  _ anyone _ could be capable of. But maybe especially a Jedi. That alone had the effect of erasing any trust he’d built up, almost down to nothing, for anyone other than his brothers. It also had the unpleasant effect of making him doubt every decision he’d ever made in the past and second guess every decision he was making now.

His leaden feet had finally brought him to the bunkhouse. He punched in his code and entered to find a very somber and quiet room. Fives was typing something on his datapad, Jesse was talking quietly with Appo and Coric, Hawk was reading in a chair at the far end of the room, and if he had to guess, he’d bet that Kix was in the med bay tending to Tup and his other injured brothers. 

Before Krell, the common area would have been alive with animated chatter, raucous laughter and rowdy behavior.  _ Sometimes too rowdy _ , he thought as he remembered a particularly exciting night that ended with a human shaped dent in the bunkhouse door. What he wouldn’t give for a night like that again. Now the common room was almost silent and devoid of all of the things he’d always loved about it. Another thing Krell had taken from him and his brothers.

He sighed again before clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. He almost didn’t need to as no one was particularly occupied with much. “Alright men, we’ve finally been assigned a mission. I’ll need a few of you to come with me to recon the Felucia system. We’re to verify the presence of a Separatist blockade and report back here.” A sea of blank and confused faces blinked uncomprehendingly back at him.

“That’s it?” said Fives incredulously. “ _ That’s _ the mission? You can’t be serious! A  _ droid  _ could -”

Rex sighed for what felt like the millionth time today, “Yes, Fives, that’s it. That’s our assignment and that’s all we’ve got for now. So, are you in, or would you rather stay here?”

“Oh, I’m in. Anything’s better than staying here. I’m just saying that -”

“I  _ know, _ Fives.” He took a deep breath and forced his anger and tension to recede. He continued in a slightly less confrontational tone. He wasn’t mad at Fives. He wasn’t mad at any of his brothers. In fact, he was as indignant about this simple and basically nothing mission as they were. “I know. Trust me, I feel the same way. But that’s what we’ve been given. That’s  _ all _ we’ve been given. So we can either take it or leave it. I plan to take it.”

All of the men continued to gaze at him questioningly. Their faces betraying looks of skepticism and indignation, but just about all of them still too shocked or irritated to speak. “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but what choice do we have?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt ill and he was sure any color had fled from his face. It sounded like Umbara. It sounded way too much like Umbara. Like he was following orders blindly again, not asking enough questions, not demanding better for his men. He had to fight back the bile rising in his throat, only barely succeeding before he spoke again. His men couldn’t see him like this, afraid of a stray thought, skittish over a turn of phrase. They trusted him and he was going to prove himself worthy of that trust if it was the last thing he did. He chose his next words very carefully, tasting each one before he released it from his mouth.

“I only meant that this is our assignment. It may be basic and mindless and we may deserve much better, but it is all that we have right now. I’m sure if we perform well here we will get a more suitable assignment next time. Fives, Jesse, Kix, Coric, and Appo, you’re with me if you’re up for it. If not, that’s fine and I’ll select a different team for this one. We meet in the hangar at 0800.” A couple of the men opened their mouths to say something, but he turned on his heel and strode into the med bay. He hadn’t made it more than a dozen steps before Fives caught up with him.

“We’re with you, Rex. You know we are. But don’t you think this mission is a bit...oh, I don’t know...pointless? I mean, they could send out a kriffing  _ probe _ to do this job! Why bother sending us out at all for this?”

Rex cut him off hard. This mission may be something a cadet could tackle from his growth chamber. It may be insulting and mindless - frankly, it was. He had even considered that this might be a trick or some sort of trap or test. But after he’d seen Ahsoka, he’d pushed that from his mind. He just didn’t think she was capable of such things. He didn’t  _ want  _ to believe it was possible and deep down inside he knew that it wasn’t. But the truth was that he needed his life to go back to normal as soon as possible and this mission, however fucking meaningless and whatever their reasoning for making this his first assignment, didn’t really matter. It was the first step down that path and he refused to second guess or question it further than that.

“Yes, Fives, I’ve thought about it. And I agree with you. I don’t know what the point of it is really. But right now, I don’t care. I need -  _ we all  _ need - to get out and get back in rotation here. I just think -”

Fives was looking at him appraisingly. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head just the slightest bit. “Who’s heading up this  _ important  _ mission?”

Rex didn’t want to answer. “Does it matter?”

“It’s Ahsoka, isn’t it?” Rex narrowed his own eyes now, the hostility that had been simmering just below the surface most of the day was pumping insistently through his blood at the insinuation coloring Fives’ words.

“And what if it is? What difference does it make -”

“Rex, do you really think you’re ready for this? I think you might be letting your feelings for her cloud your judgment here.” His tone was soft and Rex wasn’t sure if he meant for it to be comforting or challenging. Either way, it rankled him for some reason. He was fine and if any of his men thought he couldn’t lead this ridiculous assignment, they were more dense than a battle droid. 

Rex stepped closer to Fives now, almost chest to chest, taking it as a challenge. “I do  _ not _ have feelings for her. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. It’s irrelevant. This is strictly about the mission. It doesn’t matter if it’s Ahso - Commander Tano - that we report to, or General Skywalker.”

Fives rolled his eyes, unaffected by Rex’s posturing. He huffed, “You think you’re ready to work with  _ Ahsoka _ , oops, I mean,  _ Commander Tano _ again already? We’ve all been through a lot, but you of all people -”

“I’m fine. Leave it, soldier.” 

“No. Look, we’re all ready to get past this, and this mission is about as exciting as a conversation with C-3PO, but it is still an assignment. And with Commander Tano in charge, are you sure you - ”

“I said, I’m  _ fine _ . I can handle this mission or any other that they see fit to give me. And it doesn’t matter who I report to. 

“I’m not buying it, vod. It’s been stressful for everyone, but we’ve all noticed how it’s affected you. And your relationship with the Commander since Umbara has been -”

“I’m warning you, Fives.”

“You might not want to hear it but it’s true. We all know how you feel about her, Rex but -”

That was the last straw. Rex lunged forward and grabbed Fives by the collar of his blacks and shoved him up against the wall hard, their faces centimeters apart. His voice was a clear warning. “You don’t know anything. There’s nothing to know.”

Undeterred, Fives scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s banthashit, and you know it!”

“You don’t know anything,” Rex repeated emphatically. 

Fives huffed, “I know you talk in your sleep. I was passing by your office this morning and I heard some pretty kinky -”

“Don’t!” Rex hissed, his eyes darting around to make sure they were still alone. “ _ Don’t _ , Fives,” he repeated more calmly. 

“Look Rex,” Fives began more quietly, “I don’t really care about any of that. Well, I do, and I want all the details, but what I mean is I don’t care  _ right now _ . Right now, I only care about getting back out there and getting back out there safely. I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to make sure you’re really thinking about this. That you’re sure you’re ready.”

Rex knew he was just being honest and although part of him still wanted to beat the shit out of something, it wasn’t Fives he wanted to hit anymore. Fives was right and he meant well, even if he could use more than one lesson in discretion and tact. He released Fives’ collar and stepped back.

“I know, I know.” He breathed out slowly and heavily, his hand coming up to run across his short blonde hair. “I know. Fives, I  _ have  _ thought about it and I understand what you’re saying, but I need this stupid mission right now. I don’t know why they don’t just send out a probe. Maybe they think we can’t tackle anything tougher than this, I don’t karking know. All I know is, that’s what we’ve been asked to do and I -  _ we _ \- need to get back out there.” Fives had opened his mouth to speak and Rex cut across him, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And it  _ doesn’t matter _ who is in charge.” 

Fives held his gaze, considering. He could almost see the battle raging just behind Fives’ golden irises - should he push it or let it go. Finally he nodded and Rex had to hold back a sigh of relief. “Okay, vod. I just needed to make sure. After Krell -”

“You don’t need to explain it to me. I understand.”

Fives nodded again, slowly this time, deep in thought. “I know you do.” Rex placed his hand on Fives’ shoulder and Fives returned it, a gesture of respect and understanding. 

Rex turned and began to walk back down the hall to his office. He wasn’t thinking about the mission anymore. Fives’ insinuations about his feelings for Ahsoka and him talking in his sleep had sent his mind into hyperdrive.

It had gotten him thinking about his recent dreams and now his thoughts were racing. He remembered his disturbing dream from this morning  _ very _ vividly, and he wanted to check something. He  _ needed  _ to check something. Something that in his prior confusion hadn’t occurred to him. Something that would either assuage his guilt and regret at what he’d done to dream Ahsoka, or something that would forever tattoo it to his soul. 

Ahsoka blushing and touching her neck in the briefing room today after he’d thought about the dream, Fives hearing things from behind the closed door of his office this morning...there were too many things that didn’t make sense and now he just had to know…especially if he’d be working with her on this mission.

He reached the door to his office and swiftly punched in his code to enter. He strode purposefully to his desk and looked closely at the wood on the edge. It was here that he would find his answer. His eyes widened in surprise and a swear escaped his lips. 

There, etched brazenly into the grains of the wood, shallow and jagged but as clear as a kyber crystal and staring him straight in the eyes, were the tell-tale marks of her fingernails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! We can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter <3


	5. The Consequences You Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Ahmose007 for the beautiful art for this chapter! You can see more of their art on Tumblr (elsaanna007) and I (sushifish) am also there, with a random assortment of reblogs (wherewedrownourscars). Come say hey to us there!

_**** _

* * *

_**Rex’s POV** _

His gloves were off and his bare hands were shaking. His heart was going to beat its way violently past the protective cage of his ribs to splinter and dissolve into dust on the desk in front of him. 

He could see it but he didn’t believe it. He steeled himself to move his hands, running his trembling fingers lightly along the grooves Ahsoka’s fingernails had carved into the wood. He could  _ feel _ them. He could  _ see _ them. 

He was still struggling to believe it. It was  _ impossible _ . She  _ couldn’t _ have been there. It was a dream.

_ Please let it have been a dream _ .

As his own short and cracked fingernails ghosted along the tracks that hers had left, he remembered his dream, his words, his actions.

_ Bend over _ .

His fingers dipped into the scratches. A splinter thrust its way into his index finger but he barely felt it.

_ He had bitten her throat _ . He could still taste the salty sweet tang of her skin on his tongue. He could still hear her gasp of pleasure.

His fingers drifted further into the gauges she’d left behind.

_ You want to  _ serve _ your Captain? _

That’s when it had happened. He remembered so clearly, no detail escaping his recollection. He could see her hands now as they were then, curled in tightly and scraping against the greel-wood of his desk. He could feel her desire, her hot and dripping arousal as his tip teased her entrance, her hands reflexively deepening these marks now wounding the wooden surface.

He jerked his hand back as though burned, snapping his mind viciously from the haunting memory of his depraved dream...or whatever it was. The _marks_ were here, that was certain, irrefutable proof that _something_ had occurred, but that didn’t change the fact that it just wasn’t kriffing possible for _her_ to have been there. It had felt so real, so wrong but so good but just so _not_ _possible_ outside of a dream - or really more of a nightmare.

He backed away from his desk as though it were a droid army steadily advancing on him. When he reached the wall, he sank down heavily until he was fully seated on the cold floor and as far away from his indiscretions as he could possibly be. He let his head fall into his hands, overwhelmed, confused and scared, a rare moment, although maybe not so rare these days, of weakness. He wasn't sure how long he sat there. 

He slowly regulated his breathing, reined in his wild thoughts and theories and pulled himself back together, piece by shattered piece.

_ It couldn’t have been real _ .

He removed his hands from his face and hoisted his head up higher on his neck, squaring his shoulders resolutely. 

_ It wasn’t possible _ .

He stood up. There may be no logical explanation for whatever the fuck happened in here this morning, but he didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it right now. Right now, he had a mission to complete and his men needed him to have his head on straight. He set his jaw and stood straighter, more confident than he felt, but the image was what really mattered right now and he  _ looked  _ assured and determined. He glanced idly at the clock on his wrist-com and jumped higher than a startled lothcat. The numbers read 0802. He was late. 

Swearing under his breath, he made his way as swiftly but calmly as he could towards the hangar. When he arrived he found Ahsoka already there of course, checking her own wrist-com with his men all standing nearby and talking amongst themselves. Fives was looking at him questioningly but he only shook his head discreetly but warningly from side to side in a bid to smother any questions before they could burst out. 

His eyes darted down without his approval to his wrist-com again. The numbers 0806 blinking derisively at him, his tardiness, which he had never indulged in,  _ ever  _ in his life, mocking him like a slap in the face. Mercifully, everyone took the hint and made no mention of his inadequacies. 

“Alright, everyone on board. We’re moving out.” Ahsoka commanded confidently. She stood as tall as her slight form would allow, her head held high and radiating all of the things he lacked right now: poise, calm, composure, resilience. There was no trace of sadness, of momentary weakness, of the tear stains he’d seen not long ago painted on her cheeks when she’d seared the memory of it into his heart. 

He cleared his throat and did his best impression of Captain Rex, leader of the fine troopers of the 501st and General Skywalker’s first in command. “Alright men, you heard the Commander! Let’s load up!” They all followed his instructions immediately and relief rushed through him at the unquestioning flurry of movement among his brothers. It felt good to do something so familiar again, even if he still didn’t quite feel like himself doing it.

Once they were loaded up, he found a space for himself next to Jesse and stood quietly, waiting tensely to reach their destination. They were on a Colsular-class cruiser for this mission, a craft that he’d seldom been on before. Finally, curiosity got the better of his nerves and the question wrenched itself from his lips before he could stop it. “Sir, if I may ask, why are we taking this cruiser and not something larger, with better shields and firepower?”

Five white and blue helmets and one set of blue eyes pivoted in his direction and he immediately regretted opening his big mouth. Fives cocked his bucket to the side in a gesture Rex knew all too well to convey that he’d done something really stupid. Something stupid like questioning her decisions in front of the men on her mission. He swallowed hard as her eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, so incredibly thankful that no one could see his face right now.

“We’re on this vessel because it is a small ship that will draw less attention. It is a former diplomatic ship so we’ll have an excuse if spotted. It’s outfitted with weapons and escape pods in the event of danger. I could go on, or is that sufficient Captain?”

Her voice had been even and formal, that of someone maybe teaching a new concept to a child, but surprisingly not in a condescending way. As though she were trying to answer his question with finality, but at the same time not wishing to crush his ego in the process. Unfortunately, no matter what her tone or intention had been, her words had the effect of causing embarrassment and more than a little frustration to begin to boil in his blood. It wasn’t even so much at her, but at himself. He’d made a complete di’kut of himself in front of her and his men and they hadn’t even reached the system yet. He frowned beneath the safety of his helmet, vowing inwardly to do nothing more than breathe until they reached Felucia.

Ahsoka had already moved on and was successfully attempting conversation with Kix. Part of him wished she were talking to him and another part was thankful she wasn’t, especially right now. He spent the rest of their time in hyperspace in quiet contemplation, mulling over everything that had happened today so far. If he had hoped to find answers, he was disappointed. It was no use, his thoughts became stranded in exactly the same places as before.

They reached Felucia without further incident, unless you counted Coric making his way over to Kix and actually joining the conversation with Ahsoka. The relationships were still strained, he could feel it, but they were trying. They were all trying. He sighed, only a small puff of air betraying his indecision through the filters on his helmet. He wanted to try too, but he just didn’t know what to think about everything. He didn’t understand and he felt powerless to do much more than stand still and hold his complicated position. 

They dropped out of hyperspace to find the clear but as yet unfinished intention to form a blockade around the system. There was one large Separatist Dreadnaught, a Lucrehulk-class Droid Control Ship, and two light destroyers forming a loose ring around the planet. Ahsoka looked out the viewport and took it all in. 

“Ok boys, we’ve got our answer. Let’s head back and formulate a plan.”

It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “With all due respect, is that really it, Sir? We’re just going to turn around and go back? If I may, I propose we send a probe down, see what sort of presence they’ve established on the surface first? That information would be infinitely helpful in establishing any future battle plans.” The words had tumbled from his mouth almost desperately, but he was grateful that they were at least supported with his full conviction behind them when they’d fallen from his lips.

Fives was tilting his head again and Ahsoka turned to face him, her gaze searching and calculating. Finally she broke the silence that was already goading him to fill it with more hasty suggestions. “Our mission is to verify the presence of an enemy blockade and return to base. We’ve verified that there is a blockade and now we need to head back.”

That should have ended it. Firmly and definitively. In hindsight, later that evening when he was alone in his office and reflecting on this moment, he would live to regret his choice to challenge the mission, to challenge her. 

But that was later and this was now. 

He opened his mouth, the words cascading out in his most emboldened Captain Rex voice, assured and convinced that he was right and that it was the right thing to do, but half of him was back on Umbara again, struggling to make the right decisions. Struggling to understand who to trust and what was right and what was wrong.

_ I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. _

“Commander, it would help to know what they’ve got on the ground already. It might save lives to have that information.”

_ That’s how they engineered us. _

“So maybe the mission didn’t specifically call for a ground probe, but now that we’ve established they have a strong blockade forming, don’t we  _ need _ that information? Wouldn’t it help to have it?”

_ But we’re not droids. We’re not programmed. _

He was standing close to her now, both of them in front of the controls. His eyes reached for hers behind his cold and emotionless visor, willing her to understand, to agree with him. He just  _ knew _ it would help to have that information. They were here already, weren’t they? What was the sense in turning tail and retreating when they were capable of doing so much more? And if they were going to be shipped back here anyway, they  _ needed _ to know what they’d be up against. They  _ deserved _ to know. 

_ You have to learn to make your own decisions. _

She looked back at him, the look in her eyes unreadable. He could see her chest rapidly rising and falling, feel her breath on that small scrap of skin between his helmet and his blacks, as he leaned over her to press the button, releasing the ground probe. All sound condensed into a distant echo around him, his world no longer consisting of any more or any less than her and him and the button he’d just pressed, disobeying orders, going against everything that had been ingrained in him since his inception, and failing to comprehend the severity of his actions. 

Of all of his actions.

As the probe launched and all sounds and sights rushed back in, nearly drowning him, several things happened at once. He heard Jesse shout something as he lunged forward in a futile attempt to stop Rex from hitting the button. He saw Ahsoka’s beautiful skin blanche as she turned back to the viewport just in time to see the Dreadnaught launch fighters. He heard her order them all to battlestations and he watched her frantically work the controls to turn the ship around and get them to safety. He saw the shots that were fired after that from the fighters and the answering blasts from their own ship. He heard the sound of one of their engines being hit and the rare curse that was pulled from Kix’s lips at the impact. He saw Appo struggling to get the shields up in time to prevent more damage. He smelled the smoke of a fire somewhere in their craft. He heard the whir of the hyperdrive powering up and then he saw the blur of planets and systems rushing by too fast to make out as they entered hyperspace.

He experienced it all, but it was almost like an out of body experience. It was as though he was watching himself but unable to stop as he made this tragic mistake, possibly his final transgression before they sent him back to Kamino for reconditioning or something equally as horrifying or as well deserved. 

He just stood there, head down in the middle of the ship, wondering how much more damage he could possibly do in one day to himself, his men, and his Commander.

* * *

**_Ahsoka’s POV_ **

Despite the bright blues of hyperspace flying by through the viewport, Ahsoka could see nothing but red. Her chest heaved as she drew in a deep breath, fingers curling against the flat top of the control panel where she’d rested her palms. Her arms felt unsteady, trembling softly with both her weight and the unbridled anger that coursed through her veins. There was a deathly, eery silence that had fallen around her and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn she could hear the sound of every single heart beating behind that blue and white armor. A series of Force signatures pulsed around her, each one teeming with some combination of shock, concern, fury and what felt distinctly similar to betrayal. She allowed herself one deep, steadying breath before turning to face the men.

“Coric, Appo,” she said evenly, “Go supervise the maintenance droids and make sure they get that fire out immediately.”

“Yes, Sir!” They answered in unison, their boots clacking against the cool durasteel floor as they headed off to carry out the order.

From behind the relative anonymity of their helmets, Ahsoka could feel every pair of amber-colored eyes locked onto her. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as she walked to where Rex stood in the middle, shame pouring off of him like water. Ahsoka wanted to scream at him. She wanted to grab him and shake him and ask him what in the absolute fucking hell had been going through his mind in that moment to make him do something so undeniably out of character and  _ stupid. _ But she was his commanding officer and she would handle this as professionally as she possibly could.

Even if she really,  _ really  _ wanted to snatch that bucket off of his head and deck him square in the mouth.

“Captain,” she began with as much control as she could manage. “I sincerely hope you are going to tell me that Asajj Ventress has boarded this ship and was using the Force to control your body, because I can think of no other reasonable explanation for what you just did.”

Rex shifted where he stood, a rare outward expression of his unease. He had never been one to reveal his emotional state so blatantly and Ahsoka knew instantly that he understood just how completely he had messed up.

“No, Commander,” he said finally, in a voice so uncharacteristically small that Ahsoka could feel the fault line it sent running down the length of her heart.

“Then please enlighten me as to what in the galaxy was running through your bucket that could have possibly possessed you to disobey a direct order.”

She didn’t need to see his face to know that his mouth was opening and closing uselessly. His lack of response only served to infuriate her further.

“Remove your helmet, Captain.”

Rex flinched. “I’m… I’m sorry, Commander?”

Ahsoka set her jaw firmly. “I don’t stutter, Captain. Remove your helmet.”

A heartbeat passed before Rex did as she asked. His fingers slid over the releases at the sides of his helmet and there was a soft  _ hiss _ as they gave way. He lifted it slowly, as though it was the weight of the entire galaxy that had rested on his shoulders.

“Look at me.”

He did so reluctantly, as if the action physically pained him. All it did for Ahsoka was fan the flames that raged just beneath the surface of her skin.

“Look me in the eye, Captain, and tell me why you saw fit to disobey not only  _ my _ direct command, but General Skywalker’s explicit orders as well.”

She watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed hard. His eyes flicked between her own for a moment, like he was trying to convey something to her wordlessly - or, she thought, maybe searching for something in the depths of her blues. She wondered if he found it.

“I-“ Rex pulled up short as if the words had suddenly turned to stone inside his mouth. “If we had more information, more intel to bring back to Coruscant, I figured maybe…”

He trailed off with a sigh, seeming to realize the weakness of his own rationale and deciding to abandon it where it lay. “I… thought I was doing the right thing, Commander.”

The weight of his words was not lost on her. Had she not been focused so intently on the inevitable repercussions of his actions, they likely would have caused her fragile resolve to snap in two. It was plain as day that Rex was having an exceedingly difficult time coming to terms with what he’d experienced on Umbara. Ahsoka wasn’t going to pretend that she understood everything he was thinking or feeling, but what she did know was that he was not the same man as when he’d begun that mission. Captain Rex would have never,  _ ever  _ disobeyed a direct order unless it had been a clear cut matter of life and death.

But then again, the Captain Rex Ahsoka knew would never have looked at her with contempt pooling in his irises. He never would have spat her title out like poison, never would have snubbed her with such unrelenting coldness or shoved past her like she was an annoyingly persistent shiny. Her Captain would never have done any of those things and Ahsoka was beginning to wonder if the man standing in front of her was someone she even knew at all anymore.

Ahsoka believed him when he said he thought he was doing the right thing. Really, she did. And that was what concerned her the most; he had been so dead set on doing what  _ he believed  _ was right that he didn’t even seem to stop and consider the explosive chain reaction his actions were going to cause. That wasn’t like him, not at all. Rex would never endanger his men like that, not in a thousand years - and, no matter how much his recent attitude toward her tried to make her believe otherwise, Ahsoka knew he would never endanger hers, either. There was something horribly, undeniably wrong here and it caused a cold sense of dread to settle into her bones.

“Captain,” she said at long last. “I’m not doubting the fact that you believed you were making the right decision. What I  _ am  _ doubting is how you came to that conclusion in the first place. Do you find your men to be expendable?”

Rex looked like she’d drawn her lightsaber and buried it in his gut.

“No, Commander,” he said resolutely, finally sounding once again like the Captain Rex she knew. “Of course not.”

“I didn’t think so. And I guarantee none of these men thought that either. But that doesn’t change the truth of the matter, which is that you  _ did  _ put the life of every single person on this ship in jeopardy, regardless of what your intentions were. And that’s not like you, Captain. Not at all.”

Ahsoka watched as he deflated before her eyes and she softened just a bit.

“I’m not going to do you the disservice of pretending to understand what you’re going through, Captain. But what I  _ do  _ understand is that whatever it is, it’s leading you to unintentionally put your men at risk. I think you need to take a step back and ask yourself what  _ you  _ would do if it were one of your brothers acting this way and-“

She broke off and swallowed hard to stop the words from dying in her throat altogether. “And figure out what you need to do to come back from this before it’s too late.”

And then she strode from the room, leaving the Captain standing in the midst of his brothers, knee deep in the hole he’d dug for himself.

* * *

_**Anakin's POV** _

Anakin liked to think he generally had a pretty good grip on his emotions. Except when it came to Padmé, of course.

And Count Dooku.

And that one time the mess hall had run out of dessert cups right before he’d gotten there.

Otherwise, he liked to think of himself as being fairly even-keeled. Rarely did he ever lose patience with Ahsoka - although, admittedly, rarely did she ever give him  _ reason  _ to lose patience with her. Though she still possessed a degree of recklessness - they were, after all, more alike than he cared to admit - Ahsoka had quickly come to see the value in listening to Anakin’s directives. She’d grown into a confident, reliable Jedi and he was proud to have her as his Padawan. Between her and Captain Rex heading up the 501st, he’d found himself entrusting them with more and more responsibilities, confident that they would handle them to the best of their abilities.

Really, he supposed, he should have realized he was long overdue for disaster. But he never would have expected it to stem from something so trivial as a recon mission. His orders had been simple: go to Felucia, see if there were Separatist ships forming a blockade, transmit the intel back to him, and then turn around and come back to Coruscant unless he instructed otherwise. He hadn’t thought there was a need to specify that they weren’t to alert the Separatists to their presence or engage in an airstrike of any kind, but apparently he’d given them entirely too much credit.

Anakin was just grateful Obi-Wan wasn’t currently planetside so he didn’t have to hear any smug “now you know what it’s like” comments from his former Master, as if he’d ever done anything half as foolish as a Padawan.

As if on cue, a phantom sting ran through the space that used to house his right hand. That, he decided, certainly did not count.

A series of soft beeps on his wrist comm told him Ahsoka and the men had returned. Anakin drew in a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come. He hoped there was a reasonable explanation for such open defiance of his command. He hoped Rex and Ahsoka would tell him they had no choice, that they’d been spotted somehow or ambushed or that it had been a trap from the jump - anything to justify what happened.

He refused to acknowledge the persistent voice in the back of his head telling him that wouldn’t be the case.

The door to the briefing room slid open with a soft  _ woosh.  _ Ahsoka stepped in first, her face painted with all the colors of dread. Anakin reached for her tentatively in the Force and found her unsurprisingly closed off, though he could still detect a sharp undercurrent of anger there. Rex trailed a few heartbeats after her, signaling to Anakin that they hadn’t walked there together. He stood, as always, at perfect parade rest in front of the long table - a safe distance away from Ahsoka, Anakin noted.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. At present, the 501st’s worst-kept secret was how poorly Captain Rex was readjusting after returning from Umbara and Anakin knew he couldn’t expect their dynamic to snap back to normal in just a handful of days. Still, it pained him to see the obvious disconnect between his friends where once there had been so much warmth and affection. The latter of which he noticed strictly unofficially, of course.

“Alright,” he said at long last. “Which one of you wants to tell me why a simple recon mission turned into a glorified airspace shootout?”

Their lack of response weighed heavily in the air. Anakin let his eyes dart back and forth between them in a wordless nudge. Ahsoka kept her eyes downcast, an uncharacteristic display of submission that set his teeth on edge. Rex’s expression was unreadable behind his helmet but his unease was so palpable that it may as well have reached out and grabbed Anakin by the throat.

“Would one of you like to answer me or are we content to just stand around for the rest of the evening and admire the quality of durasteel in this room?”

Another heavy, uncomfortable silence. It stretched a moment longer, then another.

“General,” Rex spoke at last. His voice sounded broken and Anakin suspected it was from more than just his helmet’s vocoder. “The truth is-“

“The truth is that I deployed a probe to the planet’s surface.”

The words left her calmly, with a solidity that was unshakeable. Anakin’s eyes snapped to Ahsoka’s at the same time Rex spun in place to face her.

“Commander…”

“There’s no need to try and protect me, Captain; Master Skywalker deserves the truth.”

She refused to look in Rex’s direction and instead kept her eyes locked on Anakin’s. Her gaze was firm, almost challenging, and he said nothing as she continued.

“Once we verified that a Separatist blockade was being constructed around Felucia, I thought it would be best to engage a probe so we could determine whether or not the Separatists had already deployed battle droids to the planet’s surface. I was trying to gather as much intel as possible so we could have the most complete picture of how extensive their presence was.”

Anakin fought the urge to narrow his eyes at her and instead kept his expression entirely neutral. Across the table, Rex had yet to tear his eyes away from her.

“I see,” he replied simply. “And when you made the executive decision to defy orders and send out a probe, did you not stop to consider what might come  _ after _ the fact?”

“I did. I thought we could go unnoticed by the dreadnaught long enough to get the necessary information. It was-“ she paused to swallow hard, like the words pained her. “It was arrogant and a foolish mistake.”

Anakin knew he wasn’t imagining the way she spat the words through her teeth as though they’d turned to vinegar in her mouth.

“I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing, that more information would mean more lives saved. Instead, I jeopardized the lives of my men - my  _ friends.  _ I admit to it fully and I’m ready to accept whatever punishment you see fit, Master.”

He regarded her for a moment, critical eyes trained on her unwavering form. She stood as tall as she could manage, resolute and determined beneath his gaze. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, Anakin noted that he’d never realized before that Ahsoka was such a good liar. Maybe, he supposed, it was because she’d never before had reason to lie to  _ him. _

He turned to the Captain. “Is that true, Rex?”

The trooper kept his gaze firmly trained on Ahsoka. Anakin watched as she flicked her eyes over to his for hardly more than a second, seeming to tell him everything and nothing all at once. He finally turned back to Anakin.

“Yes, General,” he said simply, resolutely. “That’s what happened."

Anakin swallowed back a sigh that would have betrayed the bone-deep exhaustion settling over him. He knew what he had to do but there wasn’t a single piece of him that wanted to follow through with it.

“You know I’ll need to bring this up to the Council, Ahsoka. Defying a direct order is a serious indiscretion and you’re lucky the immediate consequences weren’t worse than what they were - for you  _ and  _ for your men.”

“I understand, Master,” she replied in a voice that sounded somehow both determined and abysmally small.

He fought the urge to rub his aching temples. “For now, I’m relieving you of frontline duty; you’ll be detailed until I’m able to discuss this matter with the Council in its entirety.”

Ahsoka’s brow markings twitched almost imperceptibly. He could see the water threatening the dams of her eyes. “So I’m… I’m no longer in command of the 501st?”

The words melted into a bitter puddle on his tongue. “That’s correct; you’re being temporarily relieved of your position.”

Anakin felt like he may as well have wrapped his metal hand around her throat and squeezed the life from her body. Her fingers trembled and she hastily hid them behind her back.

“I understand, Master.”

It killed him to do it, as though he’d drawn his own lightsaber and buried it in his body, gutting himself from navel to sternum. But he’d had to. He was her Master, and she was his Padawan, and he knew the Council would never permit him to get away with anything less.

“Ahsoka,” he said at last, knowing he shouldn’t but unable to help himself. “I’m sorry.”

A drop escaped the corner of her eye and traced the white marking on her cheek only to be brushed away with the flick of one trembling hand.

“No, Master -  _ I’m  _ sorry.”

He didn’t need to dismiss her; she turned and left the room without chancing a parting glance at either of them, leaving Anakin and Rex on either side of the table in gravid silence.

“It’s not like her,” Anakin said at last, casting his gaze over to where Rex’s eyes sat behind his helmet’s viewport. “To disobey a direct order, especially in a way that would put your lives at risk so carelessly.”

If Rex planned to respond, Anakin would never know. He moved around the table to stand in front of the Captain and continued without pause.

“And I find it interesting that she’d use  _ your  _ access code to deploy the probe. Don’t you think that’s interesting, Captain?”

Anakin fixed him with a knowing look and Rex stiffened behind his armor.

“Yes, General,” came out in a near mumble. “Very interesting.”

He didn’t bother trying to stop the sigh that escaped him this time. “Look Rex, I don’t know what possessed you - of all people - to disregard an explicit command. What I  _ do  _ know is that it’s not like you at all.”

Anakin could hear the shaking breath being drawn in through Rex’s vocoder.

“I’ll accept whatever punishment you and the Jedi Council see fit, General.”

The corners of Anakin’s mouth tipped further downward. “I’m not planning on taking this to the Council, Rex.”

The man in front of him nearly recoiled in surprise. “G-General…?”

“Ahsoka has already decided she’s ready to die on this hill for you. Her actions, noble as they may be, aren’t going to come without official consequences. As for you-“

Rex snapped back into perfect parade rest, as if steeling himself for the inevitable.

“I have a feeling there’s no punishment to dole out that could be worse than the one you’ve already decided on for yourself. The Council doesn’t need to know everything.”

Even as they rolled off his tongue, the weight of the words felt like enough to drag him straight down to the briefing room floor - one more secret on top of the litany of others that Anakin Skywalker kept safely hidden from the Jedi Council.

“Still, I can’t ignore the fact that you haven’t been yourself, Rex. You’re angry, impulsive, irrational in a way that you’ve never been before. I’m not faulting you for how you feel or the difficulty you’re having after Umbara; I don’t think anyone has a right to blame you. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re not fit for duty in your current state.”

Anakin didn’t need even the most basic mastery of the Force to feel the realization washing over Rex in a rush. “Sir…?”

“I’m relieving you of your command, Captain. Jesse will serve as my first in command until you’re able to return to duty.”

“I’m… being detailed, Sir?”

“You’re being ordered to seek help, Rex. What you’re going through isn’t something you can be expected to carry on your own.” His tone softened and he placed a hand on his friend’s pauldron. “It’s not weak to ask for help, Rex. Your men know you’re still their leader. They went through the exact same thing you did; they’ll understand.”

Rex nodded silently and Anakin pulled his hand away, knowing without a doubt that the Captain didn’t believe a single word he’d said.

“And Rex? If you’re unsure where to start, I can think of a certain Padawan who’s suddenly got a lot of free time on her hands and clearly wants to help you.”

“Understood, General.”

His words were somehow both hard and soft, fractured yet resigned. The dismissal went unsaid and Anakin watched as Rex turned and exited the room, leaving him alone once again. He sank down into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh and reached across the table for his data pad, anxious to get to work on the report he’d need to submit to the Council. He hoped he’d done the right thing. He hoped his friends would be able to overcome the distance that had been put between them.

And, above all else, he hoped that neither of them ever felt the need to lie to him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all so much for reading! We can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter and what you think awaits these two!


	6. The Marks We Leave

_**Ahsoka's POV** _

Ahsoka could taste the fury inside her mouth, sharp and bitter as it dripped off her tongue. She knew she needed to gain some control of her emotions. This was what he wanted - to have her raging and broken in front of him, feral and decidedly un-Jedilike as she willed her eyes to turn him to stone where he stood. He was goading her, pushing her closer and closer to her boiling point and Ahsoka couldn’t find a single piece of her that cared.

“Traitor!” She spat through her fangs, baring the brilliant white points. She felt every bit a predator in that moment, charged and tightly wound, ready to pounce at the opportune moment. Across from her, he did nothing but grin.

“I did what I had to, _Jedi._ ” The word slipped through his teeth in a hiss and she knew it was meant to demoralize her, to remind her of how worthless she was in his eyes. He meant to make her feel small, insignificant.

Ahsoka wasn’t going to let him.

“Liar,” she seethed. She could feel the word taking root inside her very bones. “There’s no excuse for what you did.”

“No?”

He cocked his head at her condescendingly and took a few steps nearer, close enough that Ahsoka could smell his sour breath. He began to circle her slowly, each step even and controlled, a blatant attempt to intimidate her.

Ahsoka Tano would never be intimidated by someone like him. She stayed rooted in place, firm and confident in the knowledge that she wasn’t the prey here.

“No,” she replied resolutely. “You put my men in danger because you’re selfish, foul, _disgraceful!_ They trusted you with their lives and you treated them like they were expendable!”

He was behind her now and Ahsoka could feel his breath hot against her lekku. It made her stomach churn violently.

“Because they _are_ expendable, Jedi.”

A piercing shriek was ripped from her throat as Ahsoka’s lightsabers came to life. She spun where she stood and slashed viciously, an attack that was blocked by two blades of his own.

With the glow of their lightsabers reflected in her eyes, Ahsoka ground out through gritted teeth, “Not to me.”

Behind the crackling energy of blue and green, Krell’s mouth wormed its way into a grin.

“What do you think those clones are made for?” He shoved her backward roughly but Ahsoka held her footing, sabers raised as the two of them began to move slowly, mirroring each other. “You think they’re your friends? They’re made to _serve_ you, to _die_ for you! Snuff one out and ten more can be made to replace it. There’s nothing special about them!”

“You’re wrong!” She was on fire, every word piercing her skin to settle against her bones and stoke the flames. She parried each of his attacks with ease and it seemed to only goad him further. “Those men _are_ important - to me!”

“Are they?” His gummy lips curved upward in a sneer. “All of them? Or just CT-7567?”

Ahsoka faltered for just a moment. It was enough of an opening for Krell to shove her hard, sending her sprawling onto her back before she rolled over seamlessly and sprung back to her feet a few meters away from him. His gaze had turned to a downright leer, one that made her feel like she’d never be able to be clean again.

“Did your precious Captain tell you I sent him to the frontlines, Jedi? If he’d managed to just _follow orders_ like the good little soldier I thought he was, those brainless clones would’ve gunned him down along with the rest. And then which one of his _brothers_ would you have crawling between your thighs?”

Something saber-toothed and sharp-clawed growled from inside the cage of Ahsoka’s chest. She charged at him ferociously, all sense of fair fighting long gone as she slashed at Krell without a trace of mercy.

Ahsoka’s mercy was reserved for those who deserved it, not for people like Krell. Not for the ruthless and cutthroat, those who betrayed their men and defiled the trust instilled in them as a commanding officer. She had no mercy for this murderer, this vile bag of bantha shit and bones who dared to don a cloak and call himself Jedi, who had somehow fooled himself into thinking he had the right to threaten the men she loved.

The Maker themself couldn’t save Krell from her now.

She heard him curse as she knocked one of his lightsabers from his grasp. It went clattering to the floor and seemed to disappear at her feet, swallowed into the abysmal darkness that swirled around them. Ahsoka pressed him even harder, her strikes coming quicker and with every bit of her strength behind them. Suddenly she saw her opening and she took it, slashing at the back of Krell’s knee with her blade. He gave a guttural cry and dropped to the ground in a heap, the hilt of his ‘saber sliding uselessly out of his hand.

Ahsoka’s chest heaved as she took a step back from him. Her hands were trembling and she wasn’t sure if it was from adrenaline, from her all-consuming rage or from something else entirely. Hot tears pricked at the backs of her eyes and she turned from him, refusing to let this rotten sack of cells see her vulnerability. The beast inside her chest seemed to pace, quiet and stalking as it prepared to sink its teeth into the swollen, fleshy mass of Krell’s jugular and rip him apart at the seams.

And beneath it all, her heart ached. It ached for Hardcase and Waxer, for all the men who hadn’t been able to come back home. It ached for what remained of the 501st and the 212th, for those soldiers forced to live now with the unbearable guilt of being one of the “lucky” ones. She wished she could go back to Umbara, that she could have protected them somehow. She wished she could show them what they meant to her, how far she was willing to go to keep them safe.

“It should have been you.”

The words left her quietly but they were nowhere near small. Her voice was hard as durasteel and twice as strong. Her hands clutched her lightsabers so tightly that the edges dug into her palms and drew tiny specks of blood. She couldn’t go back to Umbara. She couldn’t change what happened. But she could do this.

Ahsoka would die for any one of her men. She would kill for them, too.

“It should have been _you!_ ”

Her lightsabers sang as she raised them high above her head and spun to face him, bringing them down in the deadly arc of a killing blow.

“Ahsoka?”

She froze. The bright green blades of her lightsabers sizzled and cracked from where they hovered a mere breath away from the neck of the man kneeling before her. She locked onto his eyes and gasped when she found not the two ghoulish yellow orbs she anticipated, but rather a very familiar pair of honey-colored irises. She released her weapons as if they’d suddenly burned white hot in her hands and let them clatter harmlessly to the floor.

“Rex?”

He stood to face her and Ahsoka slunk backward, confused and ashamed. He looked devastated, fractured and vulnerable in a way she’d never seen from him before.

“Is that it, Ahsoka? You wish I’d died on Umbara instead of our men?”

“No!” The word leapt from her throat with such urgency that it was nearly violent. “No, I- Of course not! It was- it was Krell. He…” She broke off uselessly, feeling suddenly unsure. “He was here, Rex. He was right here.”

A panic bloomed suddenly in her chest and Ahsoka’s eyes darted around frantically. She could feel the tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

“This isn’t real,” she murmured hastily. “None of this is real. It’s all a dream, just- just another dream.”

“Ahsoka,” he tried again. Rex took a step toward her and she found herself frozen in place as if being held there by the Force. “I’m not sure that’s-“

“No!” She gave her head a violent shake as he drew ever nearer, close enough now that she could have reached out and touched him had he actually been there. “You’re not here. It’s not real.”

She watched as Rex’s mouth moved but no sound seemed to come out. He reached for her in slow motion and she felt the warmth of his fingers as they brushed against her own, felt the rough scrape of his callouses against her. It sent electricity shooting through her with a violent jolt.

Ahsoka’s eyes snapped open in an instant. Her chest heaved as she blinked up at her ceiling for a moment, trying to get her bearings. Her stomach turned uneasily and her cheeks felt warm and wet. She sat up slowly, as if she were afraid of what she might find. Soft morning light was streaming in through her window and dancing across the floor of her room, bathing everything in a warm glow. It should have comforted her but all Ahsoka felt was dread mingling with the cold sweat that lingered on her skin.

She found herself overcome with a sick sense of deja vu. This was exactly how she’d felt three rotations ago when she’d woken in this very room - frightened, disoriented and utterly confused. She needed to understand what was going on. Just as it had the first time, her dream felt so undeniably _real_ and that fact alone unnerved her more than anything else. She half expected to look down and see a series of tiny blood red droplets dotting her palms but when she dared to inspect them, she found nothing. This time, the only evidence of what she’d experienced was the lingering sensation of Rex’s fingers brushing against hers and the rapidly drying remains of tears on her face.

Ahsoka frowned. She needed to understand this and she needed to understand it _now._ She reached over to her bedside table and snatched up her data pad, intent on scouring the holonet from the safety of her bed to see if she could find something - _anything_ that might help her understand what in the galaxy was happening to her.

Instead, she found a tiny blinking notification icon signaling the receipt of a new message. Ahsoka tapped it open and her eyes widened when she saw who’d sent it.

_Can we talk?_

Something warm and bitter rose in her throat and she swallowed it down hard. It seemed an odd coincidence that Rex would finally reach out to her after just having made an impromptu appearance in her dream of vengeance. But it was, of course, nothing more than a coincidence. There was no other reasonable explanation. As for the unreasonable ones… well, Ahsoka didn’t have time to dwell on those.

She tapped out a response and sent it with a heavy sigh before dragging herself off of the bed. Between her disconcerting dream and the prospect of what Rex might have to say, Ahsoka found herself with a steadily growing knot in the pit of her stomach. Because if she were being honest, she wasn’t sure which one she needed to dread more.

* * *

_**Rex's POV** _

He was shaking uncontrollably, his whole body wrecked and heaving. His stomach was churning violently, threatening to resurrect the stale caf that was all he’d had for dinner tonight as his wild heart battered his ribs in a heroic bid for freedom. He raised his trembling hand that had been stretched across his desk, to place it over his heart, his fingers curling inwards and clutching the fabric of his blacks as though to trap it inside. His fingertips were still tingling, hot tendrils of energy coursing through them stronger than adrenaline and more potent than fear.

_What the fuck was happening to him?_

He’d been asleep, his body and mind too exhausted to repel the need for it any longer and he’d crashed once more in his office. He couldn’t remember his dream this time...well, most of it anyway. It might have been about General Krell again and it might have been about the lunch menu this week. All he knew was that he couldn’t remember how it had started and it wasn’t important really anyway except for the end. 

He’d been dreaming about...well, about _whatever_...and then he’d been transported to Umbara again. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t keep it from happening any more than he could stop his pulse from racing and the anxiety from running through his veins as soon as he realized where he was. He was back on that shadow world, entombed in darkness and bitter memories, surrounded by failures. His failures. 

His failures that his men had fought for. His failures that his men had died for. 

He’d fallen bonelessly to his knees, no strength left to give as he took a moment to remember them all like he hadn’t been given the chance to then. One short moment, even if in a dream, to honor their memories and what they’d all meant to him. Waves of guilt and overwhelming sadness crashed relentlessly over him. He’d let it. He had been aware somehow that this would help him grieve, to have this moment for his men, so much less than they deserved but still all he could do in this moment and he’d have to settle for that.

He’d heard her before he saw her. The unmistakable hum of twin lightsabers cutting through the silence of this poisonous atmosphere and announcing the presence of Ahsoka Tano. He had shifted on his knees, twisting his body around so that he was facing her but not bothering to get up. A part of him didn’t care if she brought those blades down now to cut him in half. A part of him felt as though he would have deserved it - for Umbara, for his tortured dreams where he had said and done so many horrifying things, for how he’d treated her recently and for how he’d put them all in danger.

“It should have been you.”

It was a statement, not a question. Not a heated admonishment or a slip of the tongue. She _meant_ it. Her voice was a sword of ice as it punctured his heart straight through the middle, cleaving it neatly in two. She was calm and sure, her voice hard and steady, every centimeter of her body proclaiming that she was sure she was right. That this was how she felt...how she _really_ felt. His eyes had reached for hers, begging and pleading for it not to be true. Regardless whether _he_ felt he should have taken the place of any of his men, it eviscerated him to think that she could have felt that way too. To think that he had somehow done so many things wrong and that she now hated him this much because of it.

“It should have been _you!_ ”

She had raised her lightsabers, intent shining clear in her eyes. She had already begun to swing them down, her aim was true as they raced towards his exposed neck. 

Time had seemed to freeze in that moment. Everything was moving in slow motion. He’d had time to stand up now and move away from the certain death speeding his way, but he didn’t. Unlike his previous dreams, this time the concept sunk in that he had some small say in the outcome. He was not some unthinking participant; he could move and he could make decisions. He’d reached deep inside himself and found his voice.

“Ahsoka?”

She had frozen, her lightsabers powering down and dropping carelessly from her hands as soon as she’d withdrawn them. For his part he hadn’t been able to move yet. Although he now suspected he might have some tiny leeway in altering what happened in his dreams, it hadn’t even occurred to him that she might as well. He hadn’t considered the possibility that they could interact in this state of being and now that this indeed looked to be the case, he hadn’t been entirely sure what to do with it.

“Rex?”

He had risen from his knees, his body somehow feeling heavier than it had when he’d fallen to the ground initially, the weight of Ahsoka’s judgement dragging him down this time. She looked disoriented and perplexed, more than a little unnerved by his presence here in this nightmare and that he could be speaking to her at this moment.

He felt as though he had ripped his fractured heart from his body and held it in his hands in supplication to her as he spoke, imploring her with each word to take his gift and not to shatter it at her feet. Part of him was afraid to ask, but he had to know. His whole body was _burning_ to know if she’d meant it. If that was how she truly felt. He barely choked out the words, the effort it cost him as his vocal cords grinded together was nearly unbearable. “Is that it, Ahsoka? You wish I’d died on Umbara instead of our men?”

“No! No, I- Of course not! It was- it was Krell. He…” He watched her eyes break free of his gaze to flick rapidly across their dark and poisonous surroundings. The relief that she didn’t really mean it was so powerful that it had almost felt like he was drowning in it. “He was here, Rex. He was right here.” She had been crying and each tear was like a drop of acid eating away at what was left of his heart. He’d longed to catch them all, to wipe her face clean of any sadness or guilt. This was his mess, not hers. 

_Not ever hers_. 

“This isn’t real. None of this is real. It’s all a dream, just- just another dream.”

But he’d known that wasn’t the case anymore. He didn’t know what the fuck this was but he did know that it wasn’t _just a dream_. He’d known it then and he knew it now. And he knew that part of her realized it too.

“Ahsoka,” he’d entreated softly. It took everything he had, but he bent his knee, lifted his foot and took that first tentative step towards her. She didn’t move. His heart was going to punch its way through his chest. He was still walking towards her, his movements slow but determined. “I’m not sure that’s-“

“No!” She had been shaking her head, but she’d held her ground as he came to stand in front of her. “You’re not here. It’s not real.” She was so close now. He wanted so badly to touch her, to reassure her, to convince her that it was all going to be okay even when part of him wasn’t so sure of it himself. He swallowed hard, his jaw working but struggling to open and close, his tongue tasting numerous words and emotions but producing no results.

Half of him meant to do it and the other half fought the gesture as soon as his hand began to raise, reaching for her own. He’d had to bite back his gasp at the sensation of his fingers softly ghosting along her own. He’d never felt anything quite like it before. It was charged, it was burning, it was _electric_. His fingers reached out for more, seeking to curl around her hand, but before he could even see her reaction to his boldness, he was ripped away, back to the hard wood of his desk that his head was currently resting on. 

His eyes had burst open, wide awake in an instant and his whole body shaking, one hand outstretched, reaching across the expanse of his desk as though still seeking hers.

He swallowed thickly, letting the memory of his dream evaporate from his mind. It was almost too much to take. He didn’t understand any of this and it was all so...intense. So powerful and charged and just _overwhelming_. He was sure she felt it too and he wasn’t sure if that thrilled or terrified him.

His still trembling fingers reached for his datapad and he punched in the words and sent the message before his cacophony of doubts and hesitations could creep in and stop him.

_Can we talk?_

Well, it was out there now and just like everything else he’d done so far, there was no taking it back. He stared at the blank space below his message. Part of him was afraid she wouldn’t even bother to answer him and part of him was terrified that she would. He set it down and forced himself to stand up and walk away from it. Sitting there and staring at it wasn’t going to produce results and he still wasn’t even sure if he was hoping she’d respond or not.

He crossed to the other side of the room and began to pace. He’d made it about five rotations when he heard the soft _ping_ that signalled a message. His body whipped around so fast his elbow jammed against the file cabinet and he bit back a curse as the pain shot through his arm. He walked the last few steps to his desk, massaging his elbow. He picked up the datapad and blinked down at the message. 

_Yes. Where do you want to meet?_

His already uneasy stomach was doing a summersault now and his heart wasn’t sure whether it wanted to leap up into his throat or plummet into his boots. His hands were trembling again as he sent his response, more nervous than he could ever remember being in his life.

_Can you come to my office?_

He stared at the datapad, counting the seconds and stalking that blank space beneath his question for her answer. For far too many heartbeats that blank space just stared back at him mockingly, but then finally…

_Yes._

He set the datapad down, feeling both relieved and incredibly anxious. 

He’d just turned away and made it two steps towards the far end of the room where he could resume his pacing again when he heard the soft _ping_ of another incoming message. For the second time tonight his body reacted faster than he could compensate for and he spun around, his armored leg banging into the side of his desk. He did curse this time as he gripped the edge of the desk, fighting the urge to hit it with his fist. His eyes clenched shut, he took a deep breath, opened them again and reached for the datapad.

_On my way now_.

For some reason those four words nearly made him panic. He had initiated this and he really did want to talk to her, but now she was on her way and what the fuck was he going to say to her?

_Good evening Commander, I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but I’m sorry I had a dream the other night where I spread your legs, bent you over my desk and then proceeded to…_

_Oh fucking Maker_. What was he going to say to her?

Maybe she would alleviate his fears and tell him that she hadn’t been there that night. That the moans and gasps and the feel of her beneath him...all of it...had just been something his depraved and broken mind had conjured up for his own twisted benefit. Maybe she’d tell him that they hadn’t shared a heavy and crushing conversation in a dream tonight, that his fingers hadn’t whispered across hers before he’d woken up, that she hadn’t felt that electric charge sparking between them as they’d touched. 

He looked down at his hand, still gripping the desk, his fingers just grazing the edge of an as yet unexplained set of grooves carved into the wood.

Maybe she’d tell him he was just imagining these marks on his desk.

He ripped his hand away and made his way to the far side of the room to pace and mull everything over. He sighed, the sound deep and filled to bursting with all of his trepidation and apprehension over the conversation that was about to happen. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

_Fuck._ He still had no karking idea what he was going to say to her.

He cleared his throat. “Come in.” His voice only sounded half as uncomfortable as he felt. She entered his office calmly and without betraying any trace of what she might be thinking or feeling. Which didn’t help him _at all_ in deciding how to broach this very complicated topic. 

More than a few heartbeats passed in silence. Several too many.

She was standing by his desk, wearing her maroon battle dress that she’d worn the last time he’d seen her. He shifted on his feet, remembering the last time she was in here, standing just about where she was now and wearing that very same dress. 

He cleared his throat again. It didn’t help. “Commander, I - um, well, I think maybe we should talk about...uh, what I mean to say is…I was wondering if maybe you had, um…” he trailed off, honestly not knowing how to string all of his questions and concerns into a sentence. He sighed and a set of new words leaked from his mouth without any conscious thought or direction from him.

“Commander, I’m sorry.” 

He really meant it. He knew it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but he still needed her to know.

She nodded and he watched her throat constrict. It could have been from sadness, from anger, from compassion, or just because her throat was as dry right now as his was. Her face was a mask and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Is that what you wanted to say, Captain?” Her voice was perfectly even, no hint of what she was feeling coloring her question.

He swallowed hard. “Part of it.” He took a deep breath and ploughed on, hoping it all came out okay. “I also wanted to ask you...to - to talk to you...about, um, well, about tonight.” She froze, her hand clenching around the edge of the desk. His eyes locked onto her fingernails and he noted how perfectly they would have fit into the grooves now scratched into the wood just behind her.

Her voice sounded less confident now. “What about tonight?”

He took one small step towards her, his eyes lifting from staring at her hand to capturing her eyes. “I think you know.”

She didn’t say anything. He took one more step and then another. 

“About the dream.”

He didn’t miss the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight panic in her eyes. He was right in front of her now and his emotions were in turmoil. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to…

She pulled her eyes away from his, choosing instead to look at her hands. “It wasn’t real…” It was a question more than a statement and he could tell she didn’t believe it.

“Is that what you really think?”

“It’s _not_ real...It - it _can’t_ have been real. It’s not possible.” 

“I don’t see how it can be possible either but -”

“No. It’s just _not_ possible…” Her eyes landed on his again, pleading with him to lie to her and tell her it hadn’t happened. That none of it had happened. But he didn’t want any more lies, he wanted the truth and he knew they both needed to know what was happening. 

His hand was trembling only the slightest bit as he lifted it. His heart was pounding as his eyes held her own and his fingers once again stretched towards hers, only this time it was fully real. That electric sensation was back, crackling in the air around them and sparking through his body as his hand finally brushed over hers. His rough and calloused fingers softly traced over her own smooth ones before running over the back of her hand and onwards. He gently gripped her wrist and tugged her arm back behind her.

“Rex - what are you...?” She sounded a little breathless and it was turning him on in all the wrong ways right now in the position they were in and with his hand wrapped around her wrist. He wrenched his mind from the very inappropriate gutter it had taken a detour down and slid her hand further back. Her eyes were wide but she let him guide her where he wanted.

He stopped when they reached the back edge of the desk. 

“Ahsoka…” Her breath caught and it sounded almost like a gasp. His fingers twitched on her wrist as he reined in his wild thoughts. He splayed his hand out over hers, fighting to ignore the nearly overpowering jolts of electricity coursing through his fingers where they touched her own. He used his fingers to lead hers into those grooves engraved in the wood. 

They fit perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! <3


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